


Equinox

by hkpadfoot, ponderosa121 (Ponderosa)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Deathly Hallows AU, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 87,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hkpadfoot/pseuds/hkpadfoot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/pseuds/ponderosa121
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lengths to which a man will go to save the soul of the one he loves. (Snarry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was an entry for the Severus/Harry Big Bang run by Snape-Potter on Livejournal. 
> 
> Artist: Ponderosa121 
> 
> Original A/N: There are so many people to thank for their contributions to this work. First off to accioslash for being an awesome mod and for the recommendations on who to go to for French Translations and a Beta. Next to torino10154 for again, being an awesome mod, and for translating things into Italian for me!! Then to drarryxlover and the hyenas, whose contributions to this story would be 25k words alone. This wouldn’t have been completed if it wasn’t for late night chatzy, encouragement and “Does this scene work…at all?” Finally to joanwilder, my amazing beta and French translator. There are not enough words in the English language to express my gratitude to her, or any of the other people I’ve mentioned. Of course, I’d be remiss to not send out tons of love to the entire BB community!! Peptalks, kudos, pics of hot naked men, pompoms and everything else we shared!! You guys!! We survived!! 
> 
> Summary: The lengths to which a man will go to save the soul of the one he loves.

  **Equinox, Part One**

 

 

_“You do not have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.” – C.S. Lewis_

 

 

 

~*~

  
 _“Severus Snape, you are hereby found guilty and sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss!”_

 _The last half of the sentencing was lost among murmurs and shouts._

 _“What?!? NO!” Harry Potter shouted, jumping up immediately. He ran towards the front of the room shouting, pushing off concerned people attempting to hold him back. Severus Snape was lost amongst the clamor, pulled away from Harry’s reaching hands and cries for an appeal, and into the Dementor’s icy hands. The hood was lowered, revealing the terrifying faceless head and the mouth meant to suck the very soul out of any living being. Harry pushed forward shouting, feeling his leg twist, feeling spells and arms flying around him, and then suddenly those lips descended not onto Severus Snape, but onto himself._

Harry gasped and sat up quickly, in a cold sweat. Shaking, he took in his surroundings. The living room. He had fallen asleep, again, on the sofa in the small French cottage he had inherited from the Blacks.

“Shit,” he cursed loudly, swinging his legs off the sofa and limping down the short hallway.

“It was just a dream,” he muttered to himself before opening the door to a small bedroom.

“It’s a bit past dinner time,” he announced to the room, “best get you to the kitchen so I can feed you.” There was no response as he moved to the mass sitting in an armchair, discolored with age. The great mass was one soulless Severus Snape, who did not move, did not speak, and did not seem to care when Harry grabbed him roughly, pulled him to his feet and essentially dragged him out of the room and into the kitchen. It was not just a dream, it was a memory turned into a nightmare. Unceremoniously Harry placed the man on a chair at the table and left him there as he moved to the old stove.

“What would you like tonight, Snape?” Harry asked gruffly. “A nice piece of steak? Lobster, perhaps? Or perhaps we should skip dinner and go straight to dessert? Cheesecake sounds wonderful, with strawberries and chocolate.” Harry continued to speak, occasionally pausing in his words, as if hearing some sort of reply from the shell sitting at the table. Harry would nod and hum in agreement, as he put the wood in the stove and set it ablaze with a quick flick of his wand before heading to the cabinet he had turned into a fridge.

“Well, let’s see what we’ve been sent by our dear friend, shall we?” he asked conversationally before opening the door dramatically. There behind the door sat an assortment of different foods that would please any man who had left a dentist office with the inability to chew until further notice. Amongst all of it was a large vat of beef stew.

“Stew, again!” Harry exclaimed. “How dreadfully predictable, and look! He’s even made sure the beef is small slivers of nothing so that you can just swallow your protein without actually chewing it!” Harry grabbed the stew and turned, smiling brightly at the body of Severus Snape. The man was slightly hunched, his stringy hair covering his eyes. A small part of Harry wanted to cry out at the injustice, fresh in his mind from the nightmare. The rest of him accepted it as reality, and placed the pot down on the stove.

 _The plate hit the table with a rather resounding smack._

 _“What is that?” Severus asked, an amused look on his face._

 _“Duck,” Harry pronounced firmly, as if trying to convince them both. Severus glanced up and smirked._

 _“Duck? It looks like—”_

 _“Charcoal, I know. I wanted to make some kind of ‘your trial will go fine, let’s have a fine dinner to celebrate’ kind of thing,” Harry interrupted. Severus chuckled, a sound that still made shivers run up and down Harry’s spine._

 _“Isn’t it bad luck to be having a celebratory dinner before there’s anything to celebrate?” Severus asked._

 _Harry shrugged. “It’s not very celebratory if it is burnt, so it doesn’t count.”_

 _“Maybe it’s an omen.”_

 _“Severus!”_

 _The man shrugged. “Maybe it is. I know we think we have a solid case, but…there are members of the Wizengamot who will not listen to solid cases, they go with their gut. We need to be prepared for this not going well.” The man paused and stared at Harry for a while before continuing._

 _“If it doesn’t go well, it’ll just mean we appeal. Let’s go get take-out. I want my last meal to be curry,” Severus stated, standing up._

After feeding Snape, Harry picked him up and started dragging him to the bathroom. The man was draped across his shoulders, half shuffling his feet. Halfway down the hall, Snape let out a grunt and redistributed his weight. Harry yelped as he felt his leg crumple underneath him from the pressure.

“Damn it all, Snape!” he shouted, pushing the man off him and tumbling the rest of the short distance to the floor. Snape’s hand must have hit the wall as he rolled off Harry, for he pulled in his hand and let out a wail. Harry glared at him, rubbing his left leg.

“I hope you hurt, you fucking bastard, you know I’ve a gimp leg. Why the hell did you have to do that?” Snape did not look at Harry as he quieted down; he just stared at the ceiling. Harry took a deep breath and let his head fall back onto the wall behind him, closing his eyes.

 _“I’m going to take a shower and go to bed,” Harry stated, staring at Severus, hoping he’d take the invitation Harry had tried to imply._

 _“Don’t drown in the shower, and sleep well,” Severus responded, flipping a page in his potions journal._

 _Harry sighed. “Am I going to have to engrave this in gold for you to get it?” he asked._

 _Severus chuckled. “After the trial, Harry,” he intoned._

 _“In three months?”_

 _Severus looked up at him. “Yes, in three months, and only if it goes well. I won’t be having the savior of the Wizarding world shacked up with some common criminal,” he stated._

 _Harry snorted. “Considering we’re living in the same house, I think we’ve already shacked up.”_

 _Severus’ eyes darkened as he glanced towards his ankle where a thin red beam of magic hummed quietly. "These circumstances are…different…"_

 _Harry bit his lip and looked at Severus’ ankle._

 _“Good night, Severus,” he whispered, knowing when to quit. Severus didn’t respond as Harry walked out of the room and up the stairs of Grimmauld Place. As Severus listened to the shower turn on, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh._

The tub filled up slowly. Harry sat Snape on the toilet and began to remove the man’s clothing carefully. He swallowed and closed his eyes before starting.

“I’m sorry, Sev,” he murmured, knowing that if the man were in his right mind he’d be beside himself. Harry carefully undressed him from the faded gray pajamas he wore. As soon as Harry removed Snape’s pants, he grabbed a towel and draped it across the man’s lap as he turned and shut the water off.

Washing Snape was the easy part; getting him in the tub was the hard part. Harry was reluctant to use magic, in case any large amount gave him away to people who might be looking for him, but every time he gave Snape a real bath, he considered using it. There was shuffling; there were hands in awkward places. There were stubbed toes and Snape’s otherworldly grunts and moans of discomfort. Harry’s left leg screamed in protest, and finally, after both of them were thoroughly soaked, along with the entire bathroom, Harry turned the tap back on to get more water to replace that which was lost as Snape sat hunched forward in the tub. Harry glanced at him and smirked.

“You’ll get a bad back if you don’t fix your posture, Professor, and then where will we be? Me with a bad leg, you with a bad back,” he teased lightly, gently pushing at the man’s shoulder. Snape’s body swayed with the push, but eventually went back to slouching. Harry swallowed hard and began the delicate task of washing him.

 _The water splashed as the rag fell into it. Madam Pomfrey stared, amused as Harry ran through the doors of the hospital wing._

 _“Severus?” he gasped, stopping at the end of the bed. Madam Pomfrey glanced at her patient with a smile._

 _“I told you he’d be here soon,” she stated. Severus rolled his eyes as the disheveled Harry fell into a chair on the other side of the bed from the nurse. He stared at Severus intently._

 _“How?” he whispered. Madam Pomfrey laughed._

 _“You don’t think the greatest Potions Master of our time wouldn’t make an antidote to his evil Master’s snake venom, do you? That combined with a stasis potion and the dittany you spilled over his neck in order to make a vial for his memories…” the nurse trailed off and stared at Harry with a smile “All he needed was a Blood-Replenishing Potion and time to let his throat heal. So don’t say anything that’ll force him to talk.” Harry looked at her in amazement, his face covered in dirt and dust from the rebuilding effort. She smiled and glanced between the two of them. Carefully placing the bowl of warm water with the rag in it next to Severus, she stood._

 _“If you’d like, you can finish cleaning up his neck, Mr. Potter. It’s almost healed on the surface.” Harry didn’t hear her as she walked away to check on other patients. His eyes were glued to the other man’s face. Severus smirked and rolled his eyes._

 _Severus reached carefully for the rag and squished the excess water out with one hand. Harry didn’t notice, focusing on how Severus’ neck moved as the man swallowed. Harry continued to stare at the scars until the warm rag gently touched his face wiping away dirt. Harry grabbed the slowly retreating hand and held the man’s hand and the wet rag to his face. With his other hand, Harry pulled the cloth away, closing his eyes and taking a ragged breath before turning his face into Severus’ palm and kissing it lightly, tears running down his face._

 _“My God,” he sobbed, “we both survived.”_

The next morning, after feeding Snape his porridge, Harry placed him carefully in the wingback chair in the living room.

“All right, you’ve got a fresh pair of pants with a fresh cleansing spell in case of any accidents, and I’m going to leave that book you like so much on the disc player, okay?” he stated, settling the man in with a blanket around his legs. He moved towards the old disc player and put in the first CD of an audiobook he had had Kreacher find for him. Though he had never intently listened to the story himself, he knew it was about a girl named Lira, and had some kind of magic in it. The CD started playing and Harry looked at Snape.

“I’m going to the village, I’ll be back in a bit,” he stated before walking to the front entrance of the cottage. He imagined Severus calling to him, as he put on his coat. Phrases that he had heard the man speak before combined with things he had heard others say: _“Be safe, don’t spend all your money in one place.”_ Harry smiled lightly as he ran a hand through his straight auburn hair, double-checking the spell.

“I won’t,” he replied to the voice in his head, dabbing a bit more makeup on his scar. _“Won’t what? Be safe or spend all your money?”_ Grinning at the snarky voice, Harry wrapped a scarf around his neck and pulled his gloves on, blinking to ensure the blue contacts were in place. As he grabbed the handle to the door, he turned towards the direction of the living room.

“You’ll know when I get back,” he replied, before stepping out into the cold French air.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione rubbed her arms and sighed, staring at the map pinned to the wall. There were three glowing red pin markers, two in England and one in Spain. Next to the map, an array of newspaper clippings and pictures were all neatly hanging, some marked with bright red marks. Hermione reached out with one hand and gently fingered a newspaper clipping with a grainy picture. The clipping was from a Muggle paper in Spain, the text in Spanish. It was an article from eight months ago, detailing a town festival. Hermione didn’t care about the festival; what she cared about was that in the picture, amongst the crowd, was Harry Potter. It wasn’t her Harry, the one she had grown up with and loved. This Harry had long hair, pulled back at the nape of his neck, and square glasses. He had a look in his eyes, one that spoke of seeing horrors, and surviving, one that spoke of trusting the world so intently despite those horrors, and having that trust slammed in face. He was obviously navigating the crowd of the festival, seeming slightly perturbed by its presence, cautiously looking out on his way to…

Here Hermione paused. On his way to what? Though Kreacher refused to deliver letters from her, refused to deliver newspapers, refused to let her into Grimmauld, and even refused to speak to her if she was being particularly pushy, she assumed the house-elf delivered everything to Harry. Groceries from home, books, and any other few creature comforts he could manage to get to Harry, somehow without leaving London.

So where was Harry going in the picture? Did Kreacher not deliver as much as they had assumed, or was Kreacher not even delivering anything to Harry at all? Perhaps Harry had found companionship somewhere in Spain, companionship that the crowd was keeping him away from.

With a sigh, Hermione buried her head in her hands.

“Where are you?” she murmured.

“’Mione?”

Hermione looked up and smiled as Ron entered the room.

“Hey,” she whispered. Ron smiled and moved to stand behind her, gently massaging her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly as she moaned and let her head drop forward, closing her eyes.

“Just thinking,” she responded. Ron hummed in response. They stood there, quiet for a moment.

“It’ll be a year in one week,” Ron finally stated. Hermione’s eyes opened and stared at the engagement ring on her left hand. She nodded.

“Hermione--” Ron started and then stopped, letting out a sigh. Hermione lifted her head and reached her hand up to squeeze Ron’s, resting on her shoulder.

“Give me one more year, Ron, we’ll find him,” she whispered.

“He doesn’t want to be found, Hermione,” he responded. There was little bite in either of their voices; it was an argument that they had had a million times before, switching sides every time.

“I almost had him, in Spain,” she murmured.

“And he took one look and was immediately by Snape’s side and then gone in a flash,” Ron reminded. Hermione pulled away from her fiancé and turned around to stare at him.

“I froze; I hadn’t seen him in months! And suddenly there he was! I couldn’t think, next time it won’t happen again,” she insisted, a fire in her voice. Ron stepped back and sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“He won’t let there be a next time, Hermione,” he stated.

“But if he knew,” Hermione stated, gesticulating wildly. Ron glanced at the newspaper article.

It was from the _Prophet_. In large bold letters it proclaimed, “Severus Snape, Innocent!” with a picture of Harry and Severus entering the Ministry on that fateful day. Underneath the picture in the newspaper, in letters only slightly smaller than the heading: “Harry Potter and Former Headmaster Still Missing.” It had only been a scant two weeks after the first trial that the court reversed the decision. It hadn’t really needed to be reversed, just corrected to the real and actual pronouncement of innocent. Unfortunately, the presiding Wizengamot official had lost his daughter during the war. In a fit of rage, he had ignored the actual ruling of innocence and had the Dementor immediately perform the Kiss. By the time things worked out, Harry was long gone, and the damage was done. Ron frowned as he stared at the article.

“I don’t know if he would come back even if he did know, Hermione. He actually destroyed two Dementors with his Patronus. If he came back tomorrow, Hermione, you know people would be clawing all over him, and then people would remember those Dementors, and then…” Ron trailed off.

“Harry Potter is not a Dark Wizard,” Hermione stated firmly.

“If he saves Severus Snape, he might turn into one,” Ron murmured. Hermione swallowed.

“Not if we help him,” she whispered. “I can’t get married without him there. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother whose last name is not Weasley.” Ron smiled at the mention of his brothers. He grabbed Hermione’s left hand and placed a kiss to it.

“One more year, and then we have to accept that he’s not going to come home.” Hermione swallowed and nodded, stepping forward to lose herself in Ron’s embrace.

“I made him stew, you know, cut everything really small and made sure the vegetables were nice and mushy so that he wouldn’t have to worry about making Severus chew,” she said, face buried in Ron’s chest. Ron chuckled.

“I’m sure Kreacher appreciated it,” he responded.

“He didn’t throw it out immediately, so it’s a start,” Hermione replied. Ron smiled softly, his eyes trailing over the map of the world on the wall. Eyes narrowing and frown forming, he tightened his hold on Hermione, one thought ringing through his mind:

 _Where are you, Harry?_

 

 

~*~

  
The shop bells tinkled as Harry pushed the door open.

“Bonjour!” a voice called from the back. Harry grinned.

“Bonjour!” he called back. There was rustling and a girl no more than a year younger than Harry appeared, her smile reaching her brown eyes as she brushed a bit of her auburn hair away from her face.

“Henry!” she laughed. “Bon sang! Has it been a week already?”

Harry smiled and nodded. “It has been,” he responded.

The girl grinned. “Un instant, let me get my things,” she said excitedly, turning to go into the back of the shop again.

“No rush, Michele!” he called after her, idly fingering a bag of coffee beans next to him. An older woman came out of the back of the small grocery shop, her features similar to Michele's features. Harry smiled at her, knowing her as the young girl’s aunt.

“Bonjour,” he greeted quietly. She smiled back at him, rolling her eyes as there came a squeak from the back and Michele burst out, wrapping her scarf around her neck.

“Je fermerai la porte à clé en partant," Michele stated to her aunt with a smile before grabbing Harry’s hand. He grinned at the older woman.

“Au revoir!” he called as Michele pulled him out the door. As usual, the woman laughed in response and waved.

“Same place?” Michele asked, turning to lock the door.

“Oui!” Harry responded, smugness in his voice. Michele laughed.

“On est fier de son français aujourd'hui, pas vrai?” she intoned sarcastically.

Harry wrinkled his nose. “What?”

“Allons-y, before the crowd shows,” Michele replied with a smile before continuing, as they walked through the town. “How is your uncle?”

Harry shrugged in response.

“Tu as eu une mauvaise journée?" Michele asked in a clear tone.

He shrugged again. “I was plagued by nightmares and bad memories during the day yesterday, and I think it rubbed off on him,” he explained easily. Michele nodded in understanding, adjusting her gloves. Harry smiled at her.

“How’s your grandmother?” he asked.

She grinned ruefully. “Aussi bien que possible pour une vieille bique comme elle,” she responded, again sarcastic.

Harry laughed. “I understand that sentiment!”

“She gets this…thoughts, in her head,” Michele continued, waving her hand in exasperation. “She does not need her petite-fille. She is très bien, no need for la petite Michele!” The girl rolled her eyes as Harry grinned.

“Insupportable,” she grouched. Harry laughed as he opened the door to the restaurant.

“Bien entendu, I give her a week before she needs son adorable et magnifique Michele again,” Michele finished with a huff.

Harry chuckled. “I have to say I’m jealous, I’d rather be told I’m not useful, it might break the monotony of meaningless howls,” he said flippantly, though his heart sunk slightly as he spoke.

“Though, grunts are easier to ignore,” he finished with a wink. Michele laughed as they sat down at a table.

“Pour rien au monde, je ne voudrais pas être à ta place, mon ami,” she replied. Harry smiled slightly at her, not even pretending to understand.

 

 

~*~

  
The CD skipped and stopped. For a brief second something flashed in the eyes of Severus Snape, before it was gone again.

Silence filled the room around the still-breathing corpse.

 

 

~*~

  
“Et ca?” Michele asked with a laugh, pointing at Harry’s dish.

“Salade?” he asked with a grin.

Michele laughed. “I’ve never seen a salad with such little lettuce!” she cried.

Harry chuckled and took a bite of the soup in front of him. “Well, Je…mange…soupe?” Harry stated.

Michele giggled and nodded. “Oui. Close enough. And I am now…?” Michele trailed off, picked up her glass, and took a sip.

Harry frowned. “Elle…boit….er…l’eau?”

Michele laughed. “Elle boit de l’eau!” she corrected.

“So what all do you have planned for today, Henry?” Michele asked, having enough of the language lesson. She knew that the boy in front of her knew more of the language than he was letting on, but it was always a fun way to pass the time.

Harry shrugged as he swallowed some soup. “Grocery shopping, bookshop, and bakery, then home again,” he replied.

Michele nodded. “Faire les courses, passer à la libraire et à la boulangerie,” she repeated in French, “What groceries?”

“The basics, I need more jam,” he responded.

Michele nodded, making a note to add in a few extra jars when she prepared his purchase later. “And would you like company to the librairie et la boulangerie?” she asked.

“You are welcome to join me at the boulangerie, not the librairie,” he replied.

Michele furrowed her brow. “Qu’est-ce qu’il y a dans cette librairie qui puisse t’intéresser à ce point?” she asked. “There are not that many books!”

It took Harry a few seconds, before he realized it was another in a string of usual questions. “Just…hoping,” he replied with a shrug.

Michele sighed. “I guarantee you that Monsieur Morel has little on your Uncle’s disease. And he speaks no English! You can’t possibly hope for him to understand what you’re looking for,” Michele stated firmly.

Harry smiled at her. “We get by, besides, there’s tons of French books that I’m looking into, it’s very exciting, to learn to read French,” he lied.

Michele smirked. “Dommage que tu ne saches pas le parler."

Not understanding a single word she said, Harry rolled his eyes.

 

 

~*~

  
The shop bell tinkled as Harry walked inside. After visiting the bakery, Michele had taken the bread he had purchased and gone back to her grocery shop, promising to have everything ready for him by the time he was done at the bookshop.

The atmosphere was almost oppressive in the silent shop, the smell of old paper overwhelming. The owner, M. Morel, stood at the till, and stared at Harry.

“Neuf?” Harry asked, as he neared the till. The man motioned for Harry to follow him into the back of the shop, where the Wizarding books were located. He pulled a tome off a shelf and handed it to Harry. Harry glanced at the cover. The golden script was flaking, but the title was legible: _Le baiser du corbeau._ Underneath the title was a carefully sketched picture of a Dementor. Harry nodded.

“Bon,” he stated.

Morel looked at him passively. “Sept,” the man finally croaked.

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he looked harshly at the man. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” he asked. “I don’t even know if this has anything worthwhile in it.”

The man seemed unfazed by Harry’s tone. “Sept,” he stated again.

Harry huffed. “Fine,” he grouched as he dug into his pocket and found the small pouch that carried his Wizarding money. He pulled out seven galleons and handed it to the man before leaving the shop, clutching the book possessively to his chest. As he neared the grocery shop, he took in a deep breath and calmed himself, not wanting to alert Michele to anything odd. He opened the door to the shop with a smile.

“Michele!” he called. Her aunt, helping another customer, smiled at him. He smiled back.

“Un instant!” she responded, from the backroom.

The customer being helped by Michele’s aunt glanced at Harry. “Est-ce qu'il l'a déjà demandée en marriage?” she asked casually, still staring at Harry.

Harry smiled at the customer, and glanced at Michele’s aunt, feeling rather lost.

“Non, et même s'il le faisait, je ne sais pas si elle l'accepterait. Il a l’intention de retourner en Angleterre un jour, j'en suis sûre,” Michele’s aunt replied. Harry grinned, feeling even more awkward as the two women stared at him. Michele came out of the backroom, and Harry sighed in relief as he walked towards her.

“I think they’re talking about me,” he murmured.

Michele frowned, her brow furrowing. “Qu'est-ce que vous mijotez, tous les deux?” she asked her aunt.

“Rien, ma chérie,” her aunt replied before the two women turned back to the shelves.

Michele rolled her eyes and handed Harry a large cloth bag. “This should have everything,” she said.

Harry smiled at her. “Merci, Michele.”

The girl smiled back. “A bientôt, Henry,” she replied as Harry turned and left.

 

 

~*~

  
 _“Finally run out of words, Mr. Potter?” Severus Snape sneered, staring down at the sweat-soaked sixteen-year-old in front of him. Harry turned his eyes away and didn’t reply. It was another vicious Occlumency lesson, the first of the year. All Harry could think about was Sirius._

 _“Answer me, Potter,” Snape sneered. When Harry closed his eyes and didn’t respond, Snape swooped forth and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, roaring._

 _“I said-”_

 _“What’s the point?” Harry interrupted. The softness of his voice threw Snape off course. Snape loosened his grip._

 _“Pardon me?”_

 _“What’s the point?”_

 _“So that you don’t get another man killed chasing dreams, you insolent—”_

 _“No!” Harry shouted, finally shoving Snape back. There—there was the Harry Potter whom Snape knew. The one with a fierce fire in his green eyes, so like his mother. This fire was different, however._

 _“What is the point of all of this in general? Not just Occlumency. What is the point when all I’m fed is half truths and lies and misinformation? If I had known about the prophecy in the first place, I wouldn’t have had any interest in going after it like Voldemort wanted! Why bother trying to prepare at all? You’ve implied it plenty, I have no skills, I’m just lucky!”_

 _Snape sneered at the boy. “Planning on a daily regimen of Felix Felicis, Potter?” he asked._

 _Harry sighed. “I’m just tired of being hunted. It wasn’t my war to begin with,” he murmured, the fire slipping._

 _“But it’s your war now. You can’t tell me you’ll let Bellatrix Lestrange get away with the murder of Sirius Black,” Snape stated, crossing his arms. “I thought better of you than that.” At this, Harry’s head snapped up and he stared at Snape in the eye._

 _“But how can I win if I don’t know the truth?” he murmured. There was something in the moment that made both stop. Suddenly it was not a student, a boy, standing in front of Severus Snape, but a man, thrown into battle. It was a fellow comrade. Whatever happened next could change everything. The two men stared at each other._

 _“If you can promise to learn Occlumency, I will tell you the truths as I know them,” Snape murmured. Harry’s eyes went wide for a brief second before he nodded. A silence descended between them, a silence that seemed to be rife with fate._

 

 

~*~

  
The silence was oppressive as the door swung open.

“Severus?” he asked cautiously, creeping towards the living room. Noises Harry liked. A holler, a CD player, a quiet murmuring of meaningless babble. Noises Harry could decipher; they meant hunger, and stomach troubles, and pain, and the need for company. Silence, though…

Silence could mean anything. Silence could mean death, capture, or even a very severe injury.

Harry couldn’t count the number times he had run into Snape’s silent room in the morning, panicked that the man had died in the middle of the night.

Heartbeat racing, Harry cautiously walked into the living room. Snape’s eyes were closed, but his chest was moving up and down in a steady pattern. The CD player was on, but not spinning. Harry sighed.

“Damn CD,” he muttered, before taking the bag from the village to the kitchen.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry slammed the book shut and closed his eyes. On the kitchen table lay two translation books, the book he had purchased in the town, and the Elder Wand. Harry rested his head in his hands, elbows on the table, rubbing at his eyes.

“It’s fucking fiction,” he muttered aloud. He cursed again and shoved back from the table.

 

 

~*~

  
The days blurred together. The weather was turning fast beyond the cabin walls. Harry had never bothered to ask where exactly he was every time he went to town, but the area was mountainous, and the weather was cold.

Some days Snape would have to be dragged from place to place; some days he was able to shuffle his feet. Some days he could chew and swallow; some days Harry had to pour whatever he could liquefy down the man’s throat. Some days Snape would move restlessly, tossing back and forth, making noises until he fell off whatever he was resting upon and would scream in pain. Some days he almost looked like a corpse.

Some days Harry would forget himself and call the man Severus. Most days something would happen that would remind Harry that it couldn’t be his Severus, the pain was too much, and Snape had been an outright bastard.

Thursday brought a storm, severe enough to keep Harry from going to town. The weather began to creep into the cabin.

Snape was tucked away in bed on Friday night, while Harry sat at the table again, staring at a map. He didn’t know how much longer he could handle this winter in the mountains, but he wasn’t ready to give up a house that was still safe from detection. The Blacks had another home in Sicily that Kreacher had been working on making safe for them, but Harry felt like it wasn’t right to leave France just yet. There was still hope that he could get information from the man at the bookshop. He glanced at the book that he hadn’t touched in a week, and sighed, reaching for it again.

“Anything other than bloody Lira is good at this point,” he murmured, heading to the living room and settling back on the sofa.

 

 

~*~

  
 _It struck Harry like a lightning bolt, which, he thought to himself, was kind of a funny thought, given the shape of his scar. He bit his lip and pretended to continue to read the book on Occlumency in front of him—not that he actually thought Severus would notice, consumed by his marking as he was._

 _The sixteen-year-old shifted slightly in his chair, feeling excitement building in the pit of his stomach as he silently steeled his nerves._

 _“I want you to kiss me,” he spoke, just loud enough to know that he had been heard. It could’ve been Harry’s imagination, but he could swear he heard that quill, doused in red ink, pause for just a millisecond._

 _“I want you to take my head in your hands, and curl your fingers in my hair and kiss me like…” Harry faltered and swallowed, not looking up from his book to see if Severus was looking at him. “Like you own me.”_

 _The quill had stopped. Harry took a breath and plunged on, ignoring the tightening in his pants._

 _“I want you to pull me close to you, and kiss me, I want to wrap my arms around you and cling to your shoulders…” Harry paused and smirked. “I’d be on my tiptoes, trying to get closer to you. You could use that later to tease me about my height.”_

 _“Harry…” Severus cautioned. Harry looked up finally, meeting the dark eyes that were burning into him._

 _“We can’t touch, fine, but I’ll be damned if we can’t talk about it,” Harry whispered._

 _“You’re my student still, Mr. Potter,” Severus replied, his brow arched. Harry smirked._

 _“Nobody said you had to respond or talk, sir,” he stated smugly. Severus scowled._

 _“And your Occlumency?”_

 _“According to the text,” Harry stated, motioning to the book in his lap, “the hardest things to hide are the things that you never tell anyone. And hidden desires can be used against you.” Severus arched one eyebrow and stared at Harry for a moment longer before picking up his quill and returning to his marking. Harry considered it a success and leaned forward over the book._

 _“I want you to run your hands down my back,” he continued, as if the interruption had never happened. His voice returned to a soft hum that was just loud enough to hear. “I want to claw at the buttons that you wear, all thirty-five of them.”_

 _“Counting instead of reading, Mr. Potter?” Severus drawled, not looking up from his marking, but the quill wasn’t flowing quite as steadily before. Harry leaned back with a smile and closed his eyes with a sigh._

 _“I want you to slip your hands up my t-shirt, I want to feel your hands on my skin,” he murmured. He was becoming desperately hard, seeing the scenario behind his eyes as he narrated it._

 _“I want…” Harry paused and bit his lip, his mind racing. Was he really doing this? It was too late to run now, too late to stop. But to put voice to what he wanted…_

 _“What do you want, Harry?” Severus’ voice was like velvet as Harry’s eyes snapped open. The man had moved to the other wingback chair in the room and was sitting, legs crossed, hands gripping the armrests, eyes trained on Harry. Harry gasped._

 _“I want you inside me,” he whispered. “I want us to take each other’s clothes off, I want to feel your skin, your body, your heat pressed against me. I want to feel you surrounding me. I want you to kiss me._

 _“I want to see you, I want to see every scar, and every hair. I want to run my hands up and down your back and touch your cock,” Harry continued, swallowing hard, eyes locked with the other man’s. He could see the pictures swirling still just in his mind’s eye. “You…you squeezing my ass, and stroking my side and kissing me.”_

 _“And if I stop?” Severus murmured._

 _Harry hummed as an image of himself being gently pushed to his knees came to the front of his mind. “Then I’ll put my mouth to better use. I’ll taste you, and swallow as much of you down as I can,” he replied, picking up the book from his lap and dropping it onto the side table next to him. His erection begged to be released from its confines. Harry stretched his legs out in front of him and lifted his arms above his head, stretching out with a sigh, turning his head away from Severus._

 _“I bet you taste amazing,” he said, “One day I want to do nothing but just…use my mouth on you. I want to pleasure you just like that, and only that.”_

 _“But…” Severus whispered. Harry glanced back over at him; the man was holding the armrests of the chair he sat in, his legs slightly spread, his robes doing little to hide his own erection._

 _“Not today,” Harry finished for Severus. “Today I want you…your…cock, inside of me in other ways.” The word cock tasted strange in his mouth for some reason. Dangerous, exotic, and almost foreign. He stretched out again, looking away from Severus and closing his eyes. His legs spread open._

 _“You pull out of my mouth, and you pull me up off the floor. You drag me to your bedroom and lay me on your bed. You run your hands up and down my sides as I grasp at you, all of you. You kiss down my torso to my erection and you suck…God…” Harry bit his lip and felt himself arching up slightly. “I’d orgasm. I’m sixteen, I wouldn’t be able to help it, but I wouldn’t stay soft for long, you’d make sure of that.”_

 _It felt like something was crackling in the air, building outside of Harry. Like his words were weaving a spell that was building between the two sitting in the room. In his mind, Harry saw Severus kissing him down from his first climax, hands on Harry’s balls and cock, stimulating so that they returned to a hardened state. He saw himself reaching down and grasping Severus’ own member, his hands twitched in the air above his head and Severus let out a very real groan._

 _Harry’s eyes snapped open and met the black eyes across the room. There was fire there. Severus lifted a single finger from the armrest, their eyes both moved to it as Severus dragged it slowly back down through the air. Harry whimpered; it was as if the man had actually touched his erection. He could feel it._

 _“Oh God,” Harry moaned._

 _“Don’t stop,” Severus instructed. Harry closed his eyes and lifted his legs up, over his own armrests, keeping his thighs spread, and sinking down into the chair._

 _“You prepare me…with lube…one finger at a time, just slowly thrusting them in and out of my ass,” Harry panted. It was becoming difficult to talk. He could feel Severus’ fingers inside of him, stretching him, and when he opened his eyes, the man’s fingers were twitching. It felt as if one of the ghost fingers swiped across Harry’s prostate and he moaned loudly._

 _“Sev…” he whimpered, clasping his legs with his arms to keep them up._

 _“Keep talking, Harry,” Severus growled. Harry groaned._

 _“Three fingers, that’s all I need,” Harry whined, panting and sweating, as if he were in Severus’ bed and the man was hovering over him, as opposed to sitting at opposite ends of a coffee table in separate chairs in the sitting room._

 _“You know this?” Severus asked._

 _“It’s what I’ve managed, by myself…it’s enough for my wand…I found a spell that makes it like a…a toy basically,” Harry whispered, his face red._

 _Severus made a low noise and Harry could swear that the ghost fingers inside of him twisted. He whimpered._

 _“I’m familiar. Is this what you think of?” Severus asked. Harry nodded._

 _“I think of your fingers, and then I think of your cock…sliding into me…” Harry could swear he could feel the slight burn of stretching. “Oh…Sev…you inside me…fucking me…pounding into me…” Harry shouted; in his mind Severus had Harry’s legs pushed up, so that his knees almost touched his shoulders. He was pounding away wildly and Harry was holding onto his legs for dear life. The crackling increased; there was sensation all around him. Then, the image of Severus leaned down and bit Harry’s neck, hard._

 _Harry bucked up and shouted, feeling sticky warmth flooding his pants. There was an answering groan and then movement and shuffling. Harry’s body buzzed and ears rang, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the orgasm or the magic. Strong arms lifted him, and Harry groaned and tilted his head up. Their lips were a mere breath away from each other. Harry let his eyes open slowly._

 _“Your magic…” Severus breathed._

 _“Our magic,” Harry murmured, leaning forward slightly and pressing their lips together before pulling back and resting his head on Severus’ shoulder. The feeling of a spell washed over Harry, and he chuckled as any remnants of his orgasm disappeared from his pants._

 _“Thanks,” he said, leaning heavily onto Severus. The man picked him up and carried him to the sofa. After a bit of finagling, they managed to lie on their sides next to each other, Harry curled into Severus’ chest, the man’s arms keeping him from falling off the edge. Words ran through Harry’s head, things to say, compliments to give, promises to make. Instead, he fell asleep clinging to Severus’ robes._

 

 

[](http://www.snapepotterfests.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/Ponderosa-1.jpg)

Harry woke up with a jolt. He panted harshly into the cold room and cursed, throwing back his blankets.

“Damn it,” he swore, staring down at his pajama pants. The wet spot stood out proudly and chilled quickly. With a quick flick it was gone, but the feeling of the dream, the memory, did not go away. With a huff of air that was too visible for comfort, Harry flopped back down in bed.

It was that damn book’s fault. Give it a spin for an interesting story and by chapter two, the characters were having sex, and Dementors hadn’t even been mentioned. Harry cursed under his breath, letting the cold air bite his skin. He was going to give that shopkeeper a piece of his mind. He wondered if he could get Michele to tell him how to say, “Fuck you,” in French.

A loud whimper from the other room interrupted Harry’s thoughts. Harry closed his eyes and sighed. It was too cold. A house-wide heating charm would be too big to go unnoticed. He groaned and swung his feet over the edge of the bed, slipping his feet into a pair of slippers. After shoving his wand in the waistband of his pajama bottoms, he grabbed the blankets from his bed and shuffled to Severus’ room.

“Hush, hush,” he instructed quietly, walking into the room. “Look, I brought you more blankets!” He carefully laid the blankets from his bed on top of the blankets already on the bed. He then went and grabbed a pair of gloves from the top drawer of the dresser.

Harry crawled onto the bed, kicking the slippers to the floor, and wriggled under the covers. He turned Severus to face him and carefully put the gloves on each hand, tucking the sleeves of the pajamas into them. He then pulled his wand from his waistband and cast a warming charm over the pillows.

“See, isn’t that better?” he asked, curling next to Severus. “And you’ve got me.”

 

 

[](http://www.snapepotterfests.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/Ponderosa-2.jpg)

Silence reigned as Harry listened carefully to Severus’ breathing evening out. He buried his head in the other man’s chest, and pulled Severus’ arm to lie across him, as if holding him tightly. The feelings from the dream that had woken him flooded his mind. Arousal, love, comfort. A tear found its way out the corner of Harry’s eye.

“Wake up, Sev. God I wish you would wake up,” he sobbed quietly, clinging to the man’s thin pajama top.

 

 

  
[](http://www.snapepotterfests.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/Ponderosa-1.jpg)

 

 

~*~

  
“Fiction,” Harry growled, slamming the book down on the counter in front of him. The old man stared at him impassively.

“Il y a une parte de vérité dans toutes les histories,” he replied calmly.

Harry huffed loudly, sick of the language barrier. “What does that even mean?! This is worthless!” he cried, gesturing wildly to the book.

The man’s eyes narrowed and he shoved the book towards Harry. “No new, au revoir,” the man hissed, turning his back on Harry and dusting off the shelves behind him. Harry snatched up the book and left the shop in a whirlwind. He was going to figure out from Michele what the man had said, and so help him if it was insult, he’d throw the stupid book at the man’s face next time.

Muttering loudly under his breath, Harry stomped towards the grocery shop, heedless of the few eyebrows that rose as he passed. As he reached the grocery shop, he took a deep grounding breath before walking in.

Michele raised her head and frowned. “You’re early,” she said.

Harry shrugged, heading towards the front counter and leaning against it. “Haven’t been out for two weeks because of the storm, needed the air,” he said with a shrug.

Michele eyed the book in his hand. "Already visit the bookshop?” she asked.

Harry huffed at the mention. “Yeah. Can you translate something for me?” he asked, watching as she went back to the list in front of her, crossing things off as she traced the pencil down it.

“Je peux essayer, oui,” she replied, not looking up from her list. Harry nodded.

“Okay it was like… la vérité est dans les histories,” he stuttered. Michele frowned and looked up.

“Pardon?” she asked. Harry frowned and repeated the phrase more slowly.

“There is truth to every story, or something similar,” Michele said with a shrug, looking back down at her list. Harry hummed and lifted the book slightly to look at it.

Michele caught the glance. “Tout va bien?” she asked. Harry shrugged.

“Just cooped up too long in that shack, I’ll be all right,” he said with a sigh.

“Well, let me get your groceries put together and then we can head out for lunch,” she said with a smile.

 

 

~*~

  
 _Harry was sitting in a café with a young woman, drinking coffee and laughing, speaking perfect French. Harry was trudging down a lane, passing a tree covered in snow. Harry was sitting at a kitchen table, nibbling on fresh bread, reading a book out loud to Snape, who sat motionless._

Ron’s eyes snapped open.

He was padding down the hallway of the flat before he knew it, haphazardly tying his robe as he started to run towards Harry’s room. He flung open the door and stared at the map, his eyes racing over it, tracing over the information pinned next to it on the Black family, the Potter family, the newspaper clippings on Harry and Severus and the trial. He lifted his hand and traced the border of France with one finger.

“Hermione!” he shouted. “Hermione!”

There was a sound from the other room.

“Ron?”

“Hermione! Quick!” Hermione was running down the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the wood flooring. She entered the room, hair wild, trying to tie her bathrobe.

“What? What’s wrong?” she asked, voice scratchy and eyes wide. She stared at the map where Ron’s hand rested. “Ron?”

“He’s in France,” Ron whispered. Hermione stared at him.

“Are you sure?” she asked quietly. Ron looked at her. There was no question on how he knew, or why he thought that, there was just trust and steely determination. Ron nodded.

“He’s in France,” Ron repeated.

 

 

~*~

  
“Africa,” Harry said breathlessly, slamming the book on the counter. His hair was wild, his eyes ablaze. The man’s eyebrows rose.

“Africa, tell me more about Africa!” Harry demanded. Something seemed to cross through the other man’s eyes and he frowned.

“Next…week,” he said haltingly, as if he had been rehearsing. Harry slammed his hand on the book.

“No, now! Tell me!”

The man scowled. “Next week,” he stated firmly.

Harry felt the desperation coming on. “No, please, please, I need to know, I…I have to know, Africa…”

“Closing. Next week. Au revoir,” the man replied, shooing Harry and his book out of the shop. Harry stumbled out backwards, begging until the shop’s bell tinkled and the door slammed in his face, lock clicking. Harry rested his fist against the door before walking listlessly towards the grocer’s. Michele was sitting outside.

“Henry! Ca va?” she asked, jumping up and grabbing his hand.

Harry smiled at her. “Yeah, yeah. Allons déjeuner,” he replied.

She frowned. “But, what happened?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just got my hopes up,” Harry said with a shrug.

Michele’s brow creased. “Ton oncle?”

Harry smiled at the girl. “I’m hungry. Allons manger.”

 

 

~*~

  
“Explain how you know he’s in France,” Kingsley repeated to the eager, young couple in front of him. They couldn’t avoid the question for too much longer, and he was pleased to see Hermione glance at Ron. Ron sighed.

“It’s a hunch, I know it’s not decisive proof, but…we’ve done our research,” he replied.

“The Blacks have at least one home in Paris. It should be near the Malfoy estate that Narcissa inherited. Andromeda is sure that there are a few other homes in France where the Blacks vacationed,” Hermione added. Ron nodded.

“And because the Potters and Blacks are related, there is a possibility that the Potters have a home in France as well,” he concluded. Kingsley arched an eyebrow.

“The Weasleys are related to the Blacks and the Potters, however distantly. Are you telling me you own an estate in France Mr. Weasley?” he asked. Ron smirked.

“Bill and Fleur Weasley live in France, in fact,” he responded. Kingsley snorted.

“Yes, well, be that as it may, just because one old pureblood family has a house in France, that does not mean all pureblood families have homesteads in France,” the Minister of Magic replied.

“Maybe not the ones who have a bunch of kids, but I’m sure if we could get into Grimmauld and find some of Sirius’ old letters, we might be able to find some of his correspondence with Harry’s dad and find out where they vacationed when they were younger,” Hermione stated excitedly. Kingsley shook his head.

“But you can’t get into Grimmauld. Come back when you have a solid plan of storming France. I’m not going to be able to get permission to let you run rampant on a hunch, but maybe if you have an idea of how to search for them, I can get permission,” he said, standing up and ushering the two out of his office. As they stepped into the hallway, he clasped Ron’s shoulder.

“Whatever resources you need to help come up with a strategy, let me know. I’m sure I can find some way of getting it to the two of you,” he responded. Hermione stared at the pictures of missing wizards which Kingsley had installed in the waiting area before his office. There were remnants of Christmas decorations not quite taken down yet scattered around them.

“A cure to a Dementor’s Kiss,” she murmured, staring at Harry’s photograph, his infectious grin eating her heart. Kingsley sighed.

“I’ll talk with the Department of Mysteries to see if there’s any progress on that,” he murmured, as they all three stared at the two pictures at the top of the wall. Harry waved and grinned, leaning over to tap Severus’ shoulder in the next frame. Severus stared out at them with accusing dark eyes and a scowl.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry tore his eyes away from Severus’, feeling as if he had finally escaped a dark lifeless abyss.

“I just lost a staring contest to a corpse,” he grumbled, shoving himself out of his chair.

Time was dragging on slowly, while flying by quickly. Harry picked up the habit of bathing Severus several times a day to pass along the time. He also began scrubbing the small cottage they were living in, top to bottom.

It was sometime in the night between Wednesday and Thursday when Harry awoke with a scrubbing brush in hand on the bathroom floor. With a groan, he forced himself up, wincing as his muscles ached and his bones creaked. His leg protested in loud sharp pain as he tried to put weight on it.

“Damn…” he hissed. He tossed the scrubbing brush in the sink as he limped out of the bathroom and to Severus’ room. The man was softly snoring. With a sigh, Harry toed off his house shoes and collapsed into the bed next to the man, in too much pain to continue on to his own room.

“Few more hours, Sev,” he muttered, his eyelids growing heavy once more as they fell shut.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry ran wildly towards the town the next morning. He had just barely managed to get some porridge into Severus before skipping his own breakfast and taking off, book in hand. As he neared the bookshop, he slowed down, gulping in large breaths to calm his racing heart.

The shop bell rang as he stepped in. A man his own age turned around from the counter and smiled brightly. Harry felt the breath run out of him all at once.

The man was beautiful, his hair was a medium length, swept back in a stylish manner, and his eyes were a deep blue.

Harry’s fingers tightened around the book in his arms.

“Bonjour,” Harry muttered, guilt settling into his stomach like a stone as he thought of Severus.

“Hello,” the man replied with a wide grin replied. “You must be the young British man my grandfather was telling me about.”

It wasn’t fair how well the man spoke English with such an accent.

“I haven’t heard of any other Brits hanging about, so…probably,” Harry returned with a grin. The young man smiled as his grandfather stepped out from the backroom. He saw Harry and raised an eyebrow.

“Il est vraiment en avance; d’habitude, il n’arrive qu’après l’heure du déjeuner,” the man muttered to his grandson, who smiled at him.

“C’est sans doute important pour lui,” the young man replied before turning to Harry. “Where are my manners? My name is Jean.”

“H-Henry,” Harry replied, sticking his hand out to shake Jean’s.

“My grandfather, Monsieur Morel, has been telling me a lot about you. His English has always been rusty, so he wanted me to come and speak to you about the books you’re seeking,” Jean explained. Harry frowned suspiciously.

“Is there a problem with what I am searching for?” he asked. Jean laughed and shook his head.

“No, no, just…your enthusiasm. My grandfather…” Jean paused and looked at his grandfather who remained silent, watching the two young men converse. “He wants to know why you care so much about the…you call them Dementors, yes?” Harry nodded.

“Does it matter?” Harry asked, eyes narrowing. Jean hesitated and looked to his grandfather.

“Il veut savoir si çela a d’importance,” Jean asked his grandfather. His grandfather snorted.

“Je veux savoir s’il va lever une armée afin de conquérir le monde, encore une fois. Fous d’anglais,” the older man replied. Jean snorted and turned to Harry with a smile.

“He just wants to make sure that whoever he gives information to is not going to use that information in a way that…may prove harmful,” he said. Harry sighed.

“I just want to cure someone,” he muttered. Jean seemed taken aback; his smile disappeared for a brief moment before a kinder, gentler smile appeared.

“Was it during the war?” he asked. Harry looked up at Jean. If he said it happened after the war, he’d certainly be caught. He nodded.

“Yeah, it was an accident, wrong place, wrong time,” he muttered. Jean nodded.

“A relative?” he asked.

“A loved one,” Harry said with no hesitation. Jean turned to his grandfather.

“Il ne veut pas d’armée. Il veut plus que ça. Il veut un remède,” he said, with a note of awe in his voice. Morel chuckled.

“Alors, il veut mourir. Un instant,” Morel said before disappearing into the backroom. Harry frowned and stepped forward.

“Where-"

“Give him a moment,” Jean interrupted with a smile. “I think you’ve impressed him.”

“He said the word ‘die’,” Harry stated with a glare directed towards Jean. Jean grinned.

“Old men usually do,” he said. Harry chuckled and smiled.

“Well, yes, they do,” he replied awkwardly. They stood in silence, Harry refusing to look at Jean and his beautiful blue eyes. Jean seemed to be staring holes into Harry, however. When Morel returned, Harry had never been more relieved to see the old man. He held an old piece of parchment in his hand.

“Dis-lui d'aller en Afrique, et de trouver la tribu de Dogon. Ils habitent au Mail, le long de L'Escarpement Bandiagara. Il devra parler au Hogon,” the older wizard grumbled, handing the parchment to Harry. Harry carefully grasped the parchment and stared at it; it was a map of Africa with an area circled in the west, and strange markings written along the edges. Jean was staring at his grandfather.

“J'en ai compris presque la moitié,” he stated.

“Et il en saisira encore moins; contente-toi de lui transmettre le message, il comprendra,” his grandfather replied. Jean sighed and looked at Harry.

“I’m to tell you to go to Africa and find the…Dogon people. You can find them in Mali, along some cliff, it’s probably the area circled on the map. When you are there, talk to the…Hogon,” Jean stated, glancing at his grandfather for some reassurance.

“This Hogon, will he be able to help me?” Harry asked, turning the paper in hand to see if there was anything else scribbled on it. The back was blank, but the symbols seem to flash different colors in the light as Harry moved the parchment. Jean looked at his grandfather.

“Le Hogan l'aidera?” he asked. The man nodded.

“Il est leur chef spirituel. Il pourrait l'éclairer au sujet d'un vieux mythe. Je ne sais pas si le garçon parviendra à sauver son ami, mais…à cœur vaillant, rien d'impossible,” he replied. Jean nodded.

“The Hogon is the leader of the Dogon, he will be able to help,” he stated. Harry smiled and rolled the parchment up.

“Merci,” he whispered, staring into Morel’s eyes. The older man nodded.

“Bonne chance, jeune homme,” he replied.

 

 

~*~

  
“Henry? You’re early!” Michele stated, stepping forward from behind the counter.

“Yeah, I just wanted to say hi, I need to get home and get some sleep, actually,” Harry replied with a weak smile. She reached out and brushed a stray bit of hair out of his face.

“You look so tired!” she exclaimed. Harry sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, I…there might be a cure,” he said, his eyes sparkling with hope. Michele gasped and blinked, pulling her hand away from Harry as if burned.

“A cure?” she whispered. Harry nodded.

“Yes, but…” he frowned. “I’d have to leave the country, just for a few days, but I don’t think…I don’t think my uncle can handle the trip. They may tell me I have to go somewhere else to actually get the cure and…I haven’t really thought it out yet.” Michele smiled gently.

“Good news can often be distracting,” she said. Harry chuckled and nodded.

“Very distracting,” he replied. She grinned and patted his cheek gently.

“You go, get some sleep and think it out. If you need someone to take care of your uncle, I would be honored to take care of him while you were gone,” she said. Harry stared at her.

“Would you?” he asked. She nodded.

“Yes, but only if you leave now, get sleep, and come back tomorrow for lunch,” she said, ushering him out of the shop.

“We can go get lunch now!” Harry stated, excitement back in his voice. Michele laughed.

“And you’d pass out before the food was served. Go, get home and go to sleep!” Harry nodded and headed for the door.

“Oh! Henry?” Michele called. Harry stopped and turned around.

“Yes?”

“I’m a few days late but…Happy New Year!” she said with a smile. Harry hadn’t realized the date. He forced a smile and nodded.

“Happy New Year, Michele.”

 

 

~*~

  
Harry wasn’t sure how he got back to his cottage. He just knew that when he got there, it was warm, and the sofa was inviting, and the book about the Lira girl was playing and Severus was making quiet yet comforting nonsense noises. Harry wrapped up in the tattered blanket on top of the sofa and passed out.

 

 

~*~

  
“We’ll start with the Muggle towns with no magical presence first,” Hermione stated, pointing at a green dot on the map of France. Kingsley nodded from his chair as the girl continued. “It will be easier to detect levels of new magic in areas that have no magic or areas with less magic, which is why we’ll move from Muggle only towns, to smaller blended towns. Where the magical community has a presence but it’s minimal at best. Then we’ll move to areas that are more magical. The last place we’ll look is somewhere like Paris.”

“Although, if I were a Black, I’d have several homes in Paris, and that’s where we should start,” Ron stated, staring at Kingsley. The Minister of Magic snorted into his teacup.

“And three years later you’d give up the goose chase. If he’s hiding in a large city with as much of a magical presence as Paris, you’ll never find him, Mr. Weasley,” Kingsley replied.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry opened the sunblock container and applied a little more to his face. It had taken two weeks to get everything in order and in Africa, two weeks that Harry was glad to be rid of. Severus was safe with Michele in her home, and Harry was waiting for his tour guides to arrive for the final trek to the Dogon Villages. The sun was barely up and he was burning hot. It had been a train, a bus, a boat, another boat, a train again, and a bush taxi to get him to this point. From what he could understand next, he would be in a jeep and then he’d be walking.

As Harry closed the sunblock and put it in his rucksack, a jeep pulled up.

“Salut!” a dark-skinned man cried, jumping out of the jeep. Harry smiled and stood, flattening his fringe over his glamoured scar out of habit. It was the only thing he had changed about his appearance, unsure of how he would be able to keep up the rest of the spells and disguises in the heat.

“Salut! Parlez-vous anglais?” he asked.

The man grinned brightly. “I do, Mr. Porter, correct?” he asked, sticking out his hand.

Harry nodded. “Call me Henry,” he stated, shaking the man’s hand.

“My name is Aman, in the jeep is Fela, we’ll be your guides today,” Aman stated.

Harry grinned. “Nice to meet you, Aman. Will you be able to help translate as well?” he asked.

Aman nodded. “Yes. You are wanting to speak with the high Hogon, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Harry said as they headed towards the jeep.

“We can make that happen. We’ll go to the Arou village,” Aman said, helping Harry into the jeep. They took off, Harry holding on tightly as they bounced along.

“So you’re magical, yes?” Aman asked from the front. Harry’s jaw dropped slightly as he looked between the two men. Aman laughed. “No worries, friend, we’re a bit more…forthcoming in that manner here.”

“I can see, are you…?” Harry trailed off.

Aman nodded. “I am, but Fela…” he paused and looked at the man at the wheel.

“My brother married a magical woman, but I am not,” Fela stated.

Harry nodded and frowned. “So…isn’t this against the International Statute of Secrecy?” he asked.

Aman shrugged as he looked forward. “It’s a bit hard to enforce a separation between cultures, when you have a blend in tribes. How can you tell the spiritual leaders they can no longer heal their tribesmen because it would be using magic on a non-magical person?” he said.

Harry smiled. “I guess I never thought about that,” he said, leaning back and watching the desert go by.

“So what do you need to ask the high Hogon?” Fela asked a while later.

“I’ve been told he might know something about Dementors,” Harry replied easily.

Aman turned around, a sharp look in his face. “Dementors?” he asked.

Harry looked at him with a sad smile. “It’s a crackpot dream of rescue, not a madman’s dream of domination,” he assured him.

Aman’s face relaxed and he smiled. “With the Dogon people, it may not be such a crackpot dream,” he replied.

Harry sighed. “That’s what I hope.”

 

 

~*~

  
Harry, with one hand on his wide-brimmed hat, felt his footing go out from underneath him, and started to stumble down the slope. Fela’s hand shot out and grabbed him. The man pulled him up onto more steady footing.

“Thanks,” Harry breathed, pulling out his canteen, enchanted to stay cool and full, and sipping some water.

“You should put on more sunblock too, you’re turning pink,” Fela said with a grin.

Harry huffed and glared at the dark-skinned man. “I could bathe in the stuff, and I’m still going to look like a lobster by the time this trip is over,” Harry grumbled.

Fela laughed and patted him on the back. “We’re almost to the ginna, where we will find the Hogon.”

“Good,” Harry muttered, walking forward.

The buildings were made of mud and had strange shapes seemingly carved into them. Harry felt a smile threaten to spread across his face as a young boy darted out of a building with a foot-shaped door.

Harry felt strangely out of place walking down the paths of the town, passing by goats and young children who stopped and stared at him in wonder. Harry frowned as he saw a group of naked boys loudly talking.

“Why don’t they have any clothes?” he asked Fela curiously.

Fela glanced over. “They’ve been circumcised recently. For the Dogon, a person has no gender until they’ve been circumcised. Those boys have now become men, and they walk around the village naked to show to the people that they have grown up,” he explained. Harry swallowed, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

Aman glanced at him. “You do not circumcise at birth in England, correct?” he asked.

Harry flushed. “Correct,” he said. The two men grinned at each other.

“Don’t worry. To the Hogon—as long as your culture views you as a man, you are,” Aman assured him. Harry smiled weakly in return.

They slowed down as they approached a small mud hut. Harry hoped beyond hopes that this was the Hogon's place. He looked up the slope to the next building he saw. His legs seemed to shudder in resignation as he realized that that was probably where they were heading. An older man exited the hut, his legs bowed. Aman stepped forward and spoke to the man in an unrecognizable language, gesturing to Harry and to the building further up the escarpment. Harry smiled awkwardly as the man glanced at him and spoke to Aman. Fela tapped Harry on the shoulder and stepped forward with him.

“He wants to see your wand,” Aman stated. Harry looked at him warily.

“It’s common practice. In order to ensure the safety of the highest Hogon, your wand will reveal your intentions. For a wizard who is not allowed to do more than heal, as the high Hogon is, it is important to check those intentions,” Aman explained. Harry nodded and took his wand out of the hidden pocket in his trousers. He handed it to the older man who said something harshly in the foreign tongue. Harry frowned and glanced at Aman who was staring at Harry.

“He says he wants to see your other wand…” he stated, a hint of awe in his voice. Harry’s insides froze as he thought of the Elder Wand tucked in his walking boot. He hadn’t used the thing once since the final battle. They had faked its snapping and return to Dumbledore’s grave for any suspicious wizards, but he kept it on his person at all times, and not once had he had to pull it out.

“No,” he stated firmly. Aman glanced at Fela as he spoke to the man. The man glared at Harry, and though Harry couldn’t understand the words, he understood the intention. Before Aman could translate, Harry spoke.

“He may look, but he may not touch it,” he stated firmly. Aman spoke to the man again. There were a few tense moments of silence before the man nodded sharply. Harry kneeled down and whispered the Parsletongue password he had created to lock the holster the wand resided in. Reverently he pulled it out, feeling it hum in his hand as he stood. He gripped the handle tightly in his left hand and laid the shaft over his right hand. The man reached forward as if to grab it, and Harry quickly moved the wand back towards himself. The man carefully moved his hands back slightly, keeping them open and hovering in the space between them. Harry slowly moved the wand towards him, fighting the draw to abandon his other wand and use only the Elder Wand for everything. The man gasped as he felt the wand’s aura radiating, and pulled his hands back quickly.

“La mort,” he whispered in awe. Harry understood the French and immediately withdrew the wand and murmured the words to return it to its holster, locked away. Aman and Fela were staring at him. The man spoke quickly to Aman who nodded and looked at Harry.

“He says the high Hogon has been expecting you,” he said, a hint of confusion in his voice. Harry looked at him with a frown.

“How would he—is he a Seer?” he asked. Aman shrugged.

“He has been known to be. Fela, you stay here. Mr. Porter, follow this man, you will be taking a different route to the ginna than I,” Aman instructed. Harry frowned as he followed the man. Aman remained in step with them up the slope until they reached a large, strangely shaped tree with bare branches. There was a circular path at the base of the tree, and Aman went one way while Harry followed the man the other way.

He stared at the building in front of him. There were nine strange rounded points on the top of the rectangular building, with what seemed to be eggs at the top of all of the points but one. On the wall that Harry faced, there were narrow vertical openings above and to the sides of the door, almost looking as if they were false doors that one could hide in. A man stepped out of the door, wearing a basic white cloth draped over his body and a small white hat. There was a twinkle to his eyes as they moved up the path. The older man who led Harry up the path said something to the Hogon, who nodded quietly, sending the man back down the hill as Aman stepped up to Harry.

“Now remember, you cannot touch him, do you have the gifts?” Aman asked. Harry nodded and pulled his rucksack around, taking out a handful of Koala nuts and some local money. The Hogon moved to a low structure, crawling underneath the large roof and sitting in the center. Aman motioned for Harry to follow. They settled underneath the structure, Harry’s head brushing a low-lying log that created the base of the roof.

“Place your gifts at his feet,” Aman instructed quietly. Harry did so and sat back.

“Bienvenue au Mali, M. Potter,” the Hogon greeted with a smile. Harry’s eyes narrowed at the mention of his name as Aman frowned.

“Mr. Porter,” Aman corrected; the Hogon glanced at him.

“Un nom qui lui permettre de voyager sans encombres. Pouvez-vous lui demander retirer le sort qu'il porte son front ?” the Hogon asked.

Aman looked at Harry.

“He wants you to remove the glamour on your forehead,” he said. Harry opened his mouth to protest before seeing the look in the Hogon’s eyes.

 _“Don’t do it,” Severus warned. Harry looked up, shocked._

 _“Don’t do what?” he asked, an edge in his voice. Severus smirked and marked something on the paper in front of him before looking up._

 _“You could never be a Slytherin. You give yourself away too easily. Your eyes give you away when you’re about to protest or disobey,” he said casually. Harry opened his mouth to protest but Severus held up his hand._

 _“It’s a reflex, one that you would have to spend years to get rid of, which you would immediately regret once you found yourself successful. Your body forces you to be truthful; it will both get you in trouble and save you for a very long time. The safety, however, is worth far more than any trouble you may find yourself in.”_

Harry shut his mouth and passed his hand over his forehead, revealing the lightning bolt scar. Aman gasped.

“I know you,” he murmured. Harry stared at the Hogon.

“I must save my friend from a Dementor’s kiss,” Harry said, matter of fact. The Hogon looked to Aman and spoke in what Harry could only assume was the Dogon language. They had a short conversation before Aman nodded and looked at Harry.

“The language you spoke, for your wand…what was that?” he asked.

“Parsletongue,” Harry replied.

The Hogon chuckled.

 _“My people have a belief that before we broke the taboo, we did not die but turned to snakes. The language has become a rare gift amongst our youth, but more common than in other areas,”_ he hissed in Parsletongue.

Harry stared at the man in shock before looking at Aman.

“I need a snake, or anything shaped like a snake,” he said hurriedly. Aman began to translate to the Hogon as the leader reached behind him and pulled out a small wooden carving of a snake curled up as if asleep.

Aman looked at Harry. “If there is something you do not understand, you’ll have to ask him to repeat it in another language. I don’t speak snake,” he explained.

Harry nodded and glanced at the snake before looking at the Hogon. _“Hello, sir,”_ Harry greeted.

The Hogon smiled. _“Hello, Mr. Potter. I have been expecting you.”_

 _“You have?”_ Harry asked, curious.

The Hogon inclined his head. _“Death came to me in a dream announcing the arrival of His Mortal Master. I must confess, you are younger than I expected. Though I suppose War can do many things to a man,”_ the Hogon explained.

Harry nodded. _“It can,”_ he replied.

 _“May I see Death’s wand?”_ the Hogon asked. Harry hesitated a moment before reaching for his boot.

 _“By my will, open,”_ he hissed. The cover on the holster loosened and Harry pulled the Elder Wand out, holding it the same way he had earlier. The Hogon sighed as Aman watched carefully.

 _“The high Hogon of Arou does not choose to be Hogon. He does not ask for consideration, the people choose him. He is the only Hogon who must be a wizard. I grew up as a hunter and a warrior, to see such a wand before me…”_ he hissed, leaning into the nature of the language more. Harry gripped the wand and stared at the man, who seemed to sense Harry’s discomfort.

 _“No, Mr. Potter, I will not take the wand from you. The life of a Hogon is a pure one. I cannot touch that wand, for it has blood on it. And I cannot use magic that is not for the people, in healing and in religious duties,”_ he stated.

 _“Be that as it may,”_ Harry replied, glancing at the snake totem as he put the Elder Wand back into its holster. _“By my will, close.”_

 _“You came for a purpose,”_ the Hogon said.

Harry nodded, securing the holster.

 _“My friend was kissed by a Dementor,”_ he replied.

 _“More than your friend,”_ the Hogon said, staring at Harry.

Harry swallowed and nodded. _“My partner,”_ he said.

The Hogon nodded. _“You hope for what some would call an impossible cure.”_

 _“Nothing is impossible,”_ Harry said.

The Hogon smiled. _“You did not grow up in the magical community, did you?”_ he asked. Harry shook his head and the Hogon chuckled.

 _“This is why the blending of the worlds is so important. The innovative non-magical imagination, combined with the power of magic, can create glorious things.”_

Harry nodded.

 _“My partner,”_ he reminded. Now that he was here, he felt as if he had to rush to get all the information he could so that he could run back home to Severus and maybe cure him.

 _“Yes, your partner. Tell me, there is a stone, said to bring back the spirits of the deceased,”_ the Hogon trailed off with an expectant look. Harry thought of the Resurrection Stone, secured inside a box underneath his socks in his dresser.

 _“At first, I turned it repeatedly, expecting his soul to appear…but he’s not there, he’s not deceased,”_ Harry said. The Hogon nodded.

 _“He is trapped in the in-between, on the path from life to death,”_ he said.

 _“Like a ghost?”_ Harry asked. The Hogon tilted his head back, closing his eyes to think about it.

 _“It is a similar plane, but not quite the same place.”_

Harry frowned. _“I don’t understand,”_ he hissed.

The Hogon hummed and reached into his white robe and pulled out a piece of paper, which he handed to Aman, muttering a few words. Aman nodded and scanned over the paper before looking at Harry.

“It’s an article out of a book about Dementors,” he explained.

Harry snorted. “I’ve probably scanned it before, what’s it say?” he asked.

Aman looked back at the paper. “Basically it says that Dementors and ghosts are the same thing, departed souls that are not willing or able to continue on to the afterlife,” he said.

“I’ve never known a ghost to steal someone’s soul,” Harry replied.

Aman nodded. “No, the ghost is someone who is unprepared to depart from the living world; usually their death is unexpected or violent. The Dementor, however…” Aman stared at the paper as he trailed off.

 _“The depths of human agony know no limit,”_ the Hogon hissed quietly. Harry looked at the man as Aman cleared his throat. Despite the heat, Harry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

“Dementors are the souls of those who took their own lives,” Aman whispered quietly.

“Is that why they suck the happy memories out of you?” Harry asked Aman, still staring at the Hogon. Aman made a noise of agreement.

 _“The myths say that when one of those poor creatures takes a soul, they take the peace and contentment with death that they have so that the original soul can leave this plane while the new soul becomes the wretched,”_ the Hogon explained. Harry closed his eyes and swallowed, processing the information.

“Severus…is a Dementor?” he asked, the bile rising in his throat. Aman seemed to be reading the same words the Hogon spoke, for he nodded.

“Possibly, of course, this is just a theory, no one can actually prove it but…” Aman trailed off. The Hogon sighed and leaned forward. Harry opened his eyes and stared into the man’s dark ones.

 _“A soul that is strong can withstand even the most horrendous tortures for long periods of time,”_ he hissed. Harry felt the tears building up behind his eyes. He felt sick.

 _“How do I save him?”_ he hissed, his voice rough. The Hogon leaned back and seemed to think about something for a while. He looked at Aman and spoke in Dogon. Aman nodded and listened carefully, putting the paper back at the feet of the Hogon, where Harry’s gifts lay. The spoke briefly before Aman looked at Harry.

“The Dogon believe that in every land there is a passage between life and death, used by ancient peoples. They would use these passages during funeral ceremonies, mostly, bringing the souls from life to death, on a journey symbolizing the path in between the start of life and the end. The Dogon believe that a ghost is a soul who was afraid of death and was denied the opportunity for closure. They therefore travel the earth, looking for an opportunity to go into the afterlife and never are able,” he explained.

“So I have to find this passage?” Harry asked. Aman turned to the Hogon and they spoke.

 _“You have to reverse the passage. Whereas the ancients journey from life to death, you will have to journey from death to life,”_ the Hogon stated. Harry nodded.

“That makes sense,” he murmured before continuing. “But where is this passage?” Aman translated for the Hogon, who frowned.

 _“I do not know. In my sight I see a circle, once of life, now filled with the hard stone of the circle of the dead. As if in memory of life that cannot be sustained,”_ he spoke. Harry frowned and looked at Aman.

“I have no idea what he just said,” he stated. Aman frowned and the two quietly conversed before Aman turned to Harry.

“It’s a riddle even to me. From what I understand, there are two circles: one was supposed to be a stone circle of death, and the other one a circle of life, but someone has taken the life out of that circle and replaced it with stones, like the other circle. He doesn’t know the exact location, though,” Aman stated. Harry sighed and nodded.

 _“And you must travel when all is equal. Death is night, and Day is life, and when the two are equal you must make your passage, from the Death to the Day,”_ the Hogon added. Harry looked at him.

 _“The spring equinox, you mean?”_ he asked. The Hogon nodded.

 _“When day and night are equal, so are Death and Life,”_ he stated.

 _“So I just need to find one of these passages somewhere and walk a funeral procession backwards on the Spring Equinox? What about words? And magic?”_ Harry asked. The Hogon smiled.

 _“It would work best if it is in your homeland. The words and magic should come to you. Use no other magic, and it will seek you out,”_ the Hogon said.

 _“And if he’s already a Dementor?”_ Harry asked. The Hogon glanced away before looking back at Harry.

 _“My people believe that when one soul enters this plane, another must exit, but no soul may be destroyed completely. If you are successful, you may take his place. But then, perhaps, as Master of Death, you will find another way.”_

Harry swallowed and stared into the Hogon’s dark eyes, his own eyes hardening with renewed determination.

 

 

~*~

  
Michele frowned and stared at the picture in front of her. The features seemed familiar, as if…

She shook her head and handed the picture back to the woman with bushy hair.

“Non, désolée, I do not know him, Madam,” she said.

“Call me Hermione, please…take one more look, just to make sure,” Hermione begged, handing the picture back to Michele, who sighed and looked at it again, mindful of the red-headed man who was watching her intensely.

The eyes in the picture were green, and those weren’t right, and the hair was too dark, but there was something about the smile that… Perhaps if … that person, who was that person…his uncle was…his…who…

Michele sighed and shook her head.

“No, he does not look familiar. I’m sorry,” she said, handing the picture back again. Hermione sighed.

“Non, je suis désolée, merci pour votre aide,” Hermione said before walking out of the grocery shop with the man. Michele frowned, feeling as if she were forgetting something. She shrugged it off and glanced at the time. She had to make sure to remember to feed Henry’s uncle at lunch, after all.

 

 

~*~

  
“Did you get your answers?” Aman asked, once they were back in the jeep headed back to town.

Harry nodded. “For the most part, I just have to figure out this passage way thing…like…where in Great Britain is this circle of Death?” Harry said. Fela glanced at Harry through the rearview mirror.

“What exactly did he say about this circle again?” he asked.

“I’ll answer that,” Aman interjected. “He said that there were two circles, one of death and one of life. But the circle of life has been filled with stone, like the circle of death has. To preserve some sort of memorial.” Harry nodded and Fela made a noise of agreement.

“So you’re looking for Stone Circle and something like…Life Circle…” he said. Harry looked at him.

“Wait? Stone Circle?” he asked.

“Yeah like…a circle with really big rocks or something, right? If it’s from a ceremony for death…they’ll probably be pretty big,” Fela stated with a shrug. Harry leaned forward.

“Big enough to be considered a henge? Like…a Stonehenge?” he asked. Aman laughed as Harry leaned back.

“Well, there’s your starting point!”

“Okay, but what would be life?” Fela asked. Aman frowned.

“Well, to be as big as the Stonehenge…maybe trees? Treehenge?” he asked. Harry shook his head, quickly thinking back to his Muggle classes he’d taken when he was younger.

“Woodhenge,” he said excitedly, leaning forward again. “There’s a Woodhenge…there’s actually a few henges made of wood, but there’s one that’s literally right next to Stonehenge—at least for an ancient group of people it would be pretty close.” Aman turned and looked at him.

“And the stone that fills it?” he asked. Harry laughed.

“Concrete. Concrete markers, showing where the logs were.”

 

 

~*~

  
 _It was like a having a weight lifted off his shoulders, and immediately slamming into a brick wall. Harry grasped for the chair behind him._

 _“I need to sit,” he whispered. Severus stared at him impassively as Harry sat heavily._

 _The entire day, he had had a spring to his step. Hermione had convinced him to tell Ron he was gay. Ron had looked at Harry as if he were purple for being worried about it. Charlie, apparently, was gay, and Ron didn’t see an issue in his best friend being gay. Harry still hadn’t told Ron that he had feelings for Severus Snape, but then even Hermione was coming to terms with that._

 _His only worry, the whole day through, had been keeping the reason for his incredibly happy and bubbly mood away from Severus when he arrived for his Occlumency lesson. He had finally found a way to avoid someone probing the depths of his mind that he did not want probed._

 _Unfortunately, all it took was for Harry to feel strongly about something in order to let his defenses slip._

 _And he felt very strongly about Severus Snape._

 _The one worry seemed trivial now, Harry thought; there’d be no Occlumency lesson today. He walked in, ready to go, and Severus warded the door and informed him he had news. Old news, but news to Harry._

 _Harry felt sick._

 _“You have to…why?” Harry asked, shaking his head. Severus sighed._

 _“Because if I don’t, Draco Malfoy will,” he stated. Fury coursed through Harry as he jumped up from the chair._

 _“Then let him! Let Draco do it! What does it matter?!” he asked._

 _Severus snarled. “You’d let one of your peers become a murderer to spare a man who has already murdered? We’ve discussed this: killing splits the soul—my soul is damaged, I will not have the weight of Draco’s damaged soul riding on top of that!” he shouted._

 _“He’s going to wind up killing somebody anyway!” Harry cried, feeling his frustration building. Severus Snape could not kill Albus Dumbledore. Could not._

 _“You don’t know that! The only reason he is even thinking about killing somebody right now, the only reason he has the Dark Mark on his arm, in fact, is because his family would die otherwise!”_

 _“Bully for the Malfoys, then! Maybe they should’ve thought about that before joining the cause for a psychomaniac!”_

 _“And I, Mr. Potter?” Severus’ voice had lowered into a hiss. Harry swallowed._

 _“You were young and stupid,” he muttered._

 _Severus laughed. “We were all young and stupid, that does not mean we did not know what we were getting ourselves into. However, Draco has had no choice. It was either be a Death Eater, or die. I made a promise that I would help him and protect him,” Severus said. Harry closed his eyes._

 _“Stupid promise to make,” he said._

 _Severus rolled his eyes. “Dumbledore is dying anyway, or had you not noticed his hand?” he stated._

 _Harry swallowed and opened his eyes. “He’s dying?” he asked._

 _Severus nodded with a frown. “That stupid ring, it was cursed and yet he decided to wear it anyway,” he growled. Harry frowned and stared at Severus._

 _“The Gaunt ring? You mean the one that Voldemort turned into a Horcrux?” he asked._

 _Severus snorted bitterly. “I had a feeling it was one of the Horcruxes the moment you mentioned them.”_

 _“Why would he try to wear a Horcrux?” Harry asked, aghast._

 _Severus shrugged. “Perhaps he is losing his mind in his old age,” he said, moving to sit in the chair behind his desk. Harry stood, feeling lost. His teenaged crush seemed stupid now that he was here, being treated as a man, in a man’s war._

 _“If you kill him, the Wizarding world…”_

 _“Will hunt and hate me,” Severus stated. Harry looked at the man, whose eyes seemed dull as he stared at the wall. “With the death of Dumbledore, the Dark Lord will be able to rise to power in no time at all, the Ministry will fall, Hogwarts soon after, and he will continue his reign of terror until…”_

 _Silence filled the air. The two men stared at each other._

 _“Until I kill him,” Harry whispered. Severus swallowed hard, as if he wanted to say something else, but didn’t know how. Harry looked away, towards the chair he’d been sitting at previously, and quietly moved to sit there again._

 _“One day, the Universe will stop looking to children to save the world. Or maybe we’ll just start killing people once they hit a certain age so we don’t have to worry about them being stupid and either taking over the world, or letting their world get taken over,” Harry grumbled._

 _Severus sighed. “You seemed cheerful when you walked in. Did something good happen?” he asked carefully._

 _Harry laughed. “You noticed?” he asked._

 _Severus shrugged. “It is important to know if your mood affects your Occlumency,” he said clinically._

 _Harry looked at Severus’ desk and nodded. “Of course,” he said._

 _“Well, do you have good news?” Severus asked again. Harry shook his head and shrugged._

 _“Seems stupid now, what with your news,” he said._

 _Severus sighed. “Harry, we’ve discussed this. In war anything good should be celebrated, it’ll keep you sane,” he stated. Harry looked up and smiled._

 _“I’m attracted to you,” he stated simply. Severus’ eyes widened in shock and Harry chuckled. “Imagine the headlines: Harry Potter, Wizarding Savior, In Love With Headmaster’s Murderer.”_

 _There was a moment of silence before Severus snorted and rolled his eyes, a smirk on his face._

 _“Exclusive interview by Rita Skeeter, of course,” he stated. Harry grinned and ran a hand through his hair._

 

 

~*~

  
Charlie Weasley sighed and ruffled his hair impatiently. His companion laughed at him. She was several feet shorter than the tall redhead, her short blond hair almost glowing in the sun.

“Your mother is right, it is time for a haircut,” she said. Charlie grinned and shrugged.

“I mean, it’s a bit longer than usual, but if Bill is going to cut his for the kids, I might as well become the rebel, right?” he asked. His companion laughed.

“Your brother is not going to cut his hair. His wife would kill him,” she stated. Charlie grinned again.

“You’re probably right,” he said, rubbing his arms briskly. “I cannot wait to get back to warm weather.”

“I feel you, this weather is disgusting,” she complained, trying to zip her jacket up even more.

“Aw, is poor little Texas cold?” he teased. His friend glared at him.

“Keep it up, Red, I’ve met Mother Red now, I’ll send her a note about your boyfriend,” she snapped.

“Come on, Casey, I’m teasing, don’t threaten that,” Charlie said. Casey rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, I just want to get back to Africa and my dragons, it’s too bloody cold here. And this business about going through Muggle customs!” she exclaimed. She continued to talk, but Charlie tuned her out, frowning as he straightened and stared above the crowd to a familiar shock of messy black hair. The man the hair belonged to turned, and seemed to scan the crowd. He didn’t seem to notice Charlie, who grabbed Casey’s arm.

“What the hell, Red?” she squeaked. Charlie shushed her.

“I’ll be right back, stay here,” he said, letting his wand slide into his hand from its hiding spot in his sleeve. Casey frowned.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as Charlie walked away, smoothly weaving through the crowd. Harry stood by one of the few public phones that were working, dialing a number on the phone quickly. With a quick notice-me-not spell Charlie hid nearby.

“Allô? Michele?” Harry said into the phone. Charlie narrowed his eyes. French, Harry was speaking French.

“Oui! Yes, I’m back in Europe! … Non, I’m in Genoa, Italy…Oui, that would be great if someone could. I’m going to stay tonight here… Je suis fatigué … It was wonderful, look, my phone card is running out, is…is my uncle…?” Charlie leaned forward to get a better view of Harry’s face. The younger man frowned and nodded.

“Ne t'inquiète pas, sometimes it happens. I’ll be home soon and get him off your hands…oui, thank you, Michele…you too… Au revoir.” Harry hung up the phone and quickly darted his eyes around the crowd. Charlie immediately pretended to be using one of the other phones, ducking his head low and hoping beyond hopes that his spell would hold. Harry seemed to be content and walked past Charlie, who cursed not taking Hermione’s new mobile number when she had offered it. He stalked back over to Casey, frowning.

“Who was he?” she asked curiously.

“A friend who has been missing. I need to get back to Wizarding society quickly,” he muttered. Casey nodded.

“The ferry will be ready soon,” she reassured him, patting him on the arm.

 

 

~*~

  
“Stonehenge?” Harry asked with a grin, flashing a picture of the monument to Morel. The man chuckled and shook his head.

“Answers?” he asked. Harry shrugged.

“More or less,” he replied. Morel nodded in understanding.

“I look, next week, Stonehenge,” he said. Harry smiled.

“Merci pour tout,” he said. The man nodded as Harry walked out the door. Michele stood outside waiting for him with a smile.

“Je trouve toujours que tu ressembles à un homard,” she said with a laugh.

Harry glared at her. “I don’t know what you just said, but if it has something to do with my sunburn…” he threatened.

Michele laughed harder. “Don’t tell me that your next trip will be somewhere sunny and hot as well?” she asked as they walked to the café.

Harry shook his head. “It’s back to England, actually,” he said quietly with a smile.

Michele sighed. “I don’t suppose I’ll see you again after you go home,” she said with a sad look on her face. Harry shrugged.

“You might. Depends on how things go. It’s going to be very experimental,” he responded. Michele nodded.

“When do you leave?” she asked.

“Beginning of March, so a while yet.”

Michele grinned. “I’ve got you for a month yet!” she said happily. Harry nodded. They settled into their table and quickly ordered.

“You know, it was strange…” Michele said, looking out the window. Harry raised an eyebrow.

“What was strange?” he asked curiously.

“While you were gone, these people came, from England, with a photograph. They were looking for someone,” she said. Harry felt his veins turn to ice.

“Oh?” he asked, forcing himself to remain calm. Michele nodded.

“He looked like you. Well, he really didn’t, but there was something in his eyes that reminded me of you,” she said. Harry smirked.

“Maybe it _was_ me,” he stated. Michele rolled her eyes.

“No, it was not you. I would’ve known. The man in the photo had a big scar on his forehead. Anyway, they asked a lot of people around the town but left empty-handed,” she finished. Harry looked at her.

“And why was it weird?” he asked. She frowned as she looked back at him.

“Well, that you’re from the same place, I guess. I was going to tell them about you, tell them to come back and maybe you would know the man but…I couldn’t,” she said. Harry leaned forward.

“Couldn’t?” he asked. Michele’s brows furrowed.

“Didn’t…I just…forgot,” she said.

“To tell them about me?” he asked. She nodded.

“Something like that,” she replied. Harry sighed and leaned back, relieved to know that the magic he had cast on the small town had worked.

“I’m sure they’ll find their friend,” he reassured her. Michele nodded at him and smiled.

 

 

~*~

  
The flat smelled musty, as if no one had been inside for several weeks. Ron sighed as he dropped his bag next to the door, Hermione ahead of him.

France had been a bust.

With a deep breath, he moved towards the sofa and sat down, listening to Hermione in the kitchen.

“Just because we didn’t find him doesn’t mean he wasn’t there,” Hermione stated, coming out of the kitchen with two glasses of water, weeks of mail floating behind her. She handed a glass to Ron before sitting down next to him. Ron shrugged as he took a sip of water.

“Doesn’t mean he was there either,” he said after swallowing. Hermione sighed and placed her water down on the table in front of her before flipping through the mail.

“Look,” she said a few moments later, handing an envelope to Ron, “a letter from Charlie, maybe it’ll cheer you up.”

Ron flipped the envelope over to read the address and hummed.

“Maybe,” he said as Hermione stood up, going to throw away the junk mail in the kitchen bin. He could hear her looking for something to snack on.

“We’ll need to go grocery shopping later today,” she announced. “Read the letter, Ron, Merlin knows how long it’s been sitting there, he probably thinks you’re dead.”

“Yeah, all right,” Ron complained, opening the letter with a sigh, grumbling under his breath.

 _Ron,  
I hope this letter finds you fast and in good health. I don’t want to waste time with niceties, as I have something extremely important I must relay to you. If only I had taken Hermione’s mobile number when I had the chance! _

Ron leaned forward, his eyes wide and his jaw slack.

“Hermione!” he shouted.

“What?” she asked from the kitchen, banging things around.

“Hermione! Come here!” he cried, desperation in his voice.

“Christ, Ron, what?” she asked, running out of the kitchen, frowning as she saw her fiancé. “What is it?” He handed her the letter, his heart racing.

“We have to go back,” he insisted.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry walked around the house, touching random items and whispering spells underneath his breath. The plan was to leave for England a few weeks before the equinox, and case out the two places he was going to have to travel between, and then return immediately here to France to recover and recoup with Severus.

That, however, was before Harry knew Hermione and Ron had been around. He hoped it was chance that had made them assume he was in France. He needed to make sure that all the necessary items would travel with them if they needed to leave in a hurry after recouping. Kreacher had found some issues with the home in Italy, and turned to cleaning up a Potter home in England first before worrying about Italy so Harry had somewhere to stay before the equinox.

He cleaned the house, finding all the items that were necessary and putting them relatively close together in the rooms in which they were needed. As he passed by Severus, he smiled and put his hand on the chair the man sat on. In a stroke of genius he had turned the armchair Severus usually inhabited into a wheelchair—with the padding of the armchair—in order to get the man to Michele’s before he left for Africa.

“Don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner, makes life much easier,” he stated, before whispering a spell to make sure the wheelchair went with them too. Severus murmured and Harry smiled.

“Almost there, Severus,” he said.

Morel had had little luck in finding the information Harry actually needed on Stonehenge and its counterpart, Woodhenge. Harry hoped that he would have more luck by going to England a little early.

 

 

~*~

  
“Go,” Kingsley said after reading the letter once.

“They just got back!” Molly cried, immediately shushed by her husband who stood next to her. They were the first people Ron and Hermione had called. Kingsley shook his head.

“Leave tomorrow morning. I’ll get permission as soon as I can from the French Minister. Until you have official notice of the green light, just follow him if you find him,” Kingsley stated. Hermione and Ron nodded, grasping each other’s hands.

“And Mr. Weasley?” Kingsley called as the group left his office, Ron glanced at his father before turning around.

“Yes?” he asked. Kingsley stared at him.

“If you get anymore hunches…follow them.”

 

 

~*~

  
Harry crouched down in the middle of the road. It was dark and chilly out. He took off his glove and touched the cold, hard ground.

“Harry Potter was here,” he murmured; a small spot glowed and Harry closed his eyes as he felt the wind change around him. He stood up and walked the trail back towards the hut where Severus was waiting in his chair, a few things next to him.

He did not look at the grocery shop as he passed it, trying not to think of the girl who no longer would remember his face.

 

 

~*~

  
“Master Harry!” Kreacher wheezed as Harry appeared in the front hallway of the old Potter home. The ceilings were lofty, and despite the smell of disuse, it was obvious that the Potters had dedicated less time to collecting dark artifacts, and more time to pursuing noble adventures, judging by the number of paintings (covered with soundproof cloth at Harry’s request) and awards on the walls.

“Hello, Kreacher,” he greeted, pushing Severus in his wheelchair to the front sitting room.

“Kreacher is having Wimbly finish the upstairs,” the house-elf stated, following Harry.

Harry frowned. “Wimbly?” he asked.

Kreacher nodded. “Yes, Master Harry remembers Wimbly as one of the house-elves he hired before leaving,” he said. “To help Kreacher.” Harry nodded.

“Of course, how could I forget?” he asked, barely remembering the frantic few days after the trial before he had found himself in Madrid.

“Kreacher has stocked the kitchen with just enough for a few weeks, just like Master Harry asked, and as soon as Wimbly is finished upstairs, she is going to Sicily to clean it up,” Kreacher said. Harry nodded, sitting down on the sofa with a frown.

“Kreacher?” he asked. The house-elf stared at him.

“Yes Master Harry?” he asked. Harry looked around the room.

“Did my dad grow up here?” he asked. Kreacher shook his head, his ears shaking.

“No, Master Harry’s grandfather did,” he replied before tottering off, presumably to help Wimbly upstairs. Harry hummed and stretched out on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

“Two more weeks, Sev,” he murmured. There was a heavy sigh in response. Harry sat back up, frowning. He relaxed back down with a grin—Severus had fallen asleep.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry traced the river with his finger on the map; in one of the books he had found a rough sketch of an old trail that presumably led from Woodhenge to Stonehenge. Very carefully, he placed the two maps on top of each other, making sure that the map and the sketch lined up as closely as possible.

The river had changed slightly through the years, and Harry had no doubts that he’d be jumping over fences and walking through private properties. Still, to save Severus…Harry closed the books and stood up, stretching. He placed the books on the return cart and smiled at the librarian as he pocketed the papers he had drawn on and walked out.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione stopped in the middle of the road and looked at Ron.

“We need to go back,” she said hurriedly. Ron stared at her.

“Back into that shop? But Hermione, it was a dead end, that old lady had no idea what we were saying,” he said, confused. Hermione shook her head.

“No, we need to get back to England. Now,” she insisted. Ron bit his lip.

“Hermione…we’ve been looking and…”

“No, England. Let’s go,” she said, turning on her heel to find the empty alley they had Apparated to. Ron cursed and followed her.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry had been watching the site for days, and now here he was. It seemed so rushed, so fast. Everything was happening at once, and yet time was again dragging. They sat some distance away from the giant monoliths, waiting for the sun to begin setting and the park to close. Severus shifted in his arms and Harry huffed, tugging the invisibility cloak around to make sure they were still both covered.

“If you shift and whine and protest the entire ten kilometers we are about to walk, I’ll drop you in the bloody River Avon and leave you to the fish,” Harry whispered harshly, tightening his grip around the man’s torso, Severus sighed heavily.

As the sun began to set and the park began to clear of visitors, Harry cast a quick notice-me-not spell over the two of them. He pulled the invisibility cloak off and moved around until he was back to back with Severus. He had made a sort of harness with Kreacher’s help that would attach the man to Harry. Severus was already wearing it and Harry carefully maneuvered himself into it, latching it close and tightening it, before grabbing his rucksack and putting that on the front of his chest. Carefully he stood, wincing at the weight of the man on his back.

The height difference made it awkward. Although they had adjusted it slightly so that the taller man wouldn’t have his legs completely dragging behind them, there was not much that they could do. Harry adjusted the invisibility cloak and tossed it over the both of them. He had tested this a million times, it seemed, with Kreacher and Wimbly watching as Harry made sure the cloak covered both him and Severus. Wimbly was shocked that he had a cloak that could grow to fit him, while Kreacher just snorted at the old magic at work.

With a sigh Harry began to take slow careful steps towards the large monoliths feeling the weight more with each step he took. By the time Harry reached the center of Stonehenge, there were no people to be seen; it was dark with only stars in the sky for light. The air was brisk, and he was panting.

“This is not going to end well,” he muttered, carefully unlatching himself from Severus and lowering them both to the ground. He covered them with the invisibility cloak again when he heard voices.

“Bloody spring equinox!” a man shouted, and Harry tightened his arms around Severus, looking around and spotting two men in bright jackets with long poles in hand. Harry watched as one man with shaggy brown hair stabbed a piece of trash on the ground with the pole, lifted it up and deposited the trash into a bag he was carrying. This man shook his head as his companion, with dirty blond hair, kicked at the ground.

“I don’t understand what the point of this is, when the loonies are just going to be here in the morning completely destroying the place,” the blond continued. The other man stopped and stared at him.

“Yer just bitter ‘cos you dinnit get that security position,” he snapped. The blond stabbed a piece of trash particularly hard and Harry looked around frantically, making sure there was nothing near himself and Severus.

“And why shouldn’t I be? Stupid of them to hire people anyway, not like we actually need it! What’s going to happen? Oh no! Somebody stole the giant rock!” he said sarcastically.

“Let’s jus’ get this done, then yeh can run off with yer little girlfriend and shag like rabbits. Yer lucky it is spring equinox, no afterhours access tonight, we’ll be outta here in no time,” his companion responded. The first man huffed but said nothing more as they continued to pick up the trash around the path. Harry hummed quietly into Severus’ ear, rocking him back and forth slowly to keep the man content and quiet.

The two men left and a security guard appeared with a flashlight. He walked around the stones, flashing his light, and closing off the roped-off fence around the stones. He disappeared and Harry relaxed again, unsure of what he was supposed to do next. He tightened his arms around Severus and inspected the area, feeling the tension slowly building up inside of him.

“Hello?” he whispered. Nothing replied. Biting his lip, Harry slipped out from underneath the invisibility cloak, keeping Severus covered. The air seemed to shudder around him, growing slightly colder. Harry let go of a shaky breath and repeated his greeting.

A man appeared. He was unshaven and wore strange clothing while holding a bow and arrow. Harry shifted to put his back against Severus’, lifting the cloak just enough to attach himself to the harness. The man began to speak in a language foreign to Harry. Harry stared at him, slowly standing, not realizing his own lips were mouthing the apparation’s words. Suddenly the apparation stopped speaking and lifted his bow, fitting an arrow to it. He pointed it at Harry. Harry took a step back, grasping for his wand. The apparation let the arrow fly—it went straight towards Harry’s heart. Harry threw his hands with his wand up in front of it, not realizing it was the Elder Wand he held. The phantom arrow stopped and fell to the ground. Harry looked up and swallowed hard. The apparation’s eyes widened and he began to move forward.

 _“Run,”_ a voice hissed in his ear, sounding a lot like Sirius. Harry flipped the cloak over his head and turned away from the apparation, moving forward as quickly as he could with Severus on his back. The rope gate seemed to open for him, the fencing after that melted away and Harry ran, each step feeling as if he were wrenching away from some icy grip, Severus heavy on his back. Harry shouted and grunted loudly as he moved as fast he could, not doubting for a moment that a few Muggles would be alerted in the security hut, and would start to investigate the noise.

It wasn’t until he was on the other side of the road across from the monument that Harry stopped and breathed. He turned around slowly. He saw a few men holding flashlights, looking around, confused, shouting questions at each other, but they seemed to be oblivious to the fact that the stars in the sky had disappeared, and a large cloud hung over the monument. Swallowing hard, Harry turned and limped onward, his leg hurting, and Severus’ weight dragging behind him.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione paced back and forth in the Minister of Magic’s office, amongst the few members of the Order of the Phoenix who had responded to the call. Ron poured tea for Professor McGonagall, now Headmistress of Hogwarts, across the room. Kingsley sighed impatiently.

“Miss Granger, are you absolutely certain that this meeting is necessary?” he asked, not for the first time, looking around the room.

“Something is about to happen,” she muttered, not looking up from the path she was musing on.

“But what is going to happen, dear?” Molly Weasley asked. Hermione shook her head and looked up with a sigh.

“I don’t…know…what’s the date?” she asked suddenly.

“March nineteenth, currently,” McGonagall replied, glancing at a watch she pulled out of her robes. Ron’s head snapped up from the tea service.

“The spring equinox is tomorrow,” he stated suddenly. Hermione whirled on him.

“Day and night will be equal,” she stated. In the corner of the room someone began quietly laughing. Everybody turned to stare at George Weasley, his head tilted as if listening to someone with the ear he had lost during the war.

“George?” Arthur asked, moving to his son quietly.

"Not just day and night, ‘Mione,” George said, still chuckling. His voice was rough, but his eyes were sparkling. Kingsley stood up slowly and stared at a portrait on the wall.

“Kaphgan, set out an alert for the Auror Corps to track and respond to any large amounts of magic,” he commanded. The gentleman in the portrait stood up from the chair he was sitting in quickly.

“Emanating from what area, sir?” he asked. Kingsley frowned and looked at Hermione, who shook her head.

“All of the UK for now. Miss Granger, I suggest you and your future husband put your intuitions to a map.”

 

 

~*~

  
Harry groaned as he took another step. Despite the cold weather, he was unbearably hot underneath the cloak with Severus, yet was afraid of taking it off. He stopped walking and hung his head.

“I don’t know where we are,” he muttered to himself, reaching halfheartedly into the rucksack on his front and pulling out the paper he had carefully drawn the map on. “Where are we supposed to turn?”

The path was supposed to go straight northeast and then have a sharp turn to start a slow curve towards the river that he would follow for the rest of the way, but Harry had no idea how to find the turn to start the curve toward the river.

There was a rustling from somewhere in front of him and Harry lifted his eyes. A small child, wearing similar strange clothing to the archer, was standing on something raised in front of him. It was another apparition. This one mimed taking off a hood or a cloak insistently, staring at Harry. Cautiously Harry lifted the invisibility cloak off himself, tucking it behind his back so that Severus was still covered. The child grinned and waved Harry forward. Harry slowly took a few steps forward, his left leg protesting slightly. Harry ignored it, he still had at least nine kilometers to go, and he hadn’t gotten far enough to give into any kind of pain. The child ran circles around Harry as he moved forward to where the apparation had originally appeared.

Where the apparation had stood was a strange white stone, left in the middle of the field as if some kind of marker. Harry frowned and nudged it with his foot. The child laughed and Harry turned, seeing the apparation on his right, motioning Harry forward again, as if taking a turn. Harry looked forward and around before hefting Severus up more on his back and turning and following the child.

As they walked, Harry had the distinct impression of wading through something thick and viscous. The child danced around him joyfully as they continued. Harry trudged forward, trying to not to think of the weight on his back or the feeling in his legs.

Suddenly it was like walking into a fridge. Harry looked up wildly and saw that the child had moved to the side of the trail and watched curiously as apparitions—far more opaque than himself—moved past, headed the opposite direction. Harry gasped as another spirit pushed through him and stepped to the side.

It was a group of people carrying a small woven stretcher of some sort. A small body lay on top of it and a woman seemed to be crying at the end of the procession. Harry moved forward slightly. The body on the stretcher was that of the apparation who was guiding him—only he seemed to be breathing and alive on the stretcher, just asleep.

 _“Sacrifice,”_ a voice whispered, sounding like Remus Lupin. Harry shuddered as the procession moved past. The child laughed again and ran forward, Harry followed slowly, wondering where each step was going to take him.

Crossing the roads was easy. Harry pulled the cloak back over his head as they neared them. The child laughed at him and ran forward. Harry moved quickly, looking either direction, waiting for cars to pass. He paid no mind to the apparation who stood impatiently on the other side waiting for him.

Fences however were another matter. The apparation stared intently as Harry attempted to find something in his rucksack that would get him through the fences without causing too much damage. Going over was not an option, as Severus was too heavy. Finally, in frustration, Harry pulled his wand out, making sure it was his everyday one. The child took a breath and looked ready to scream. Harry quickly shoved his wand away and frowned.

“How am I supposed to get through a fence right now?” he growled. “This will take bloody forever.”

 _“Use the Elder,”_ a voice that Harry had only heard a few times whispered. He swallowed and looked around.

“Dad?” he whispered quietly. There was no response. Harry pulled out the Elder Wand, which he had secured after escaping Stonehenge. He glanced at the child as he held the wand out. The apparation seemed at ease as Harry melted the fence in front of him and walked through it, before restructuring it. He stopped then and reached into the small pouch around his neck that Hagrid had given him. To open the Snitch, Harry pulled it out and breathed on it. The Resurrection Stone glittered inside. Trying to ignore the guilt inside of him, Harry grabbed the stone and shoved it in his pocket before moving on.

 _“Kreacher!” Harry called, ignoring Hermione and Ron as he fell at Severus’ side and put his hand to the man’s neck to stop the flow of blood. The house-elf appeared. Harry stared down at Severus._

 _“Drink the damn antidote, Severus…drink it!” he demanded._

 _“Harry,” Hermione whispered, stepping forward. Harry ignored her and opened Severus’ slack mouth, touching a few of his back molars in order to open the fake teeth and loose the potions inside._

 _“Kreacher,” he said, “you keep him alive, do you hear me? You keep him alive until I’m good and dead.”_

 _The house-elf stared at his master and nodded._

 _“Harry…” Severus croaked. Harry looked at the man’s eyes and saw a few tears leaking out._

 _“Hermione…dittany…now, give me the whole flask,” he demanded. Hermione pulled the flask out and Harry poured the dittany on Severus’ wounds before collecting the tear memories into the container._

 _“You will not die on me, Severus Snape. I love you,” he whispered. Ron gasped and Severus closed his eyes, his pulse slow. Harry looked at Kreacher, his hands bloody and his eyes red._

 _“Take him, keep him alive, Kreacher.” The house-elf nodded and disappeared._

 _It wasn’t until after Voldemort was dead that Harry thought that maybe he had given Kreacher an impossible task. He ran into the forest wildly, ignoring the shouts of his loved ones behind him. He grabbed the Resurrection Stone and turned it, dreading the outcome. When Severus did not appear, Harry ran back to the castle, grabbing Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall._

 _“Severus Snape is innocent and dying. Where is the best place to bring him to take care of him?” he asked frantically. The two women looked at each other._

 _“The Headmaster’s office,” McGonagall stated before they raced out of the Great Hall. Harry kept a hold of the Resurrection Stone, ignoring the shades of the recently deceased trying to catch his eye so that they could say their goodbyes to their loved ones through Harry._

 

 

~*~

  
Harry sighed as they reached the river. He wondered if it would be too much to stop for a moment and rest by the relaxing water. He kept walking towards the river, not realizing that the apparation had stopped for a moment. Finally, Harry stopped and turned slightly. The apparation appeared to be looking longingly at the river before glancing at Harry. The boy lowered his head, resting it in his hands before looking back up. There was blood travelling slowly down his face from a large gash at the top of his head. Harry gasped.

“Sacrifice,” Harry muttered. There was a whistling noise in the air. The apparation perked up and turned slightly before grinning at Harry and beginning to run away. Harry shivered, turned back to the river and started to walk once more. He was next to the river, slowly walking on a small worn path when he felt the atmosphere change around him once more.

“Harry?”

Harry turned around and smiled at his mother. It was as if she had come from the Resurrection Stone, more solid than a ghost, but not all there. He glanced down at his empty hands and looked back up at her.

“I’m not…I didn’t…” he trailed off as she smiled.

“You currently are carrying all three of Death’s Hallows while walking the path between life and death…backwards. Do you really think it matters whether you turned the stone thrice?” she asked with an amused smirk on her face. Harry shook his head.

“I guess not,” he replied. He stepped towards her, feeling Severus shift on his back and groan. “Mum, I…”

Lily held up her hand and smiled, though Harry could tell it was hard for her to do so.

“Harry, are you certain of this? Of what you’re doing? Do you understand what you might lose if you're successful in bringing Severus back?" she asked. Harry swallowed hard.

“Are Sirius and Dad over it yet?” he asked. She laughed and glanced over to the side. Harry followed her glance. There stood shades of Sirius, James and Remus. Not quite as present as ghosts, but all three there.

“Not going to ask about Remus?” she asked playfully. Harry grinned and waved at the three men before turning back to his mother.

“He’s a bit more levelheaded than Dad and Sirius. Besides, last time I saw you guys, he was the one who outright gave me a blessing, other than you.” Lily laughed, and Harry was entranced by the way her red hair moved with her.

“They don’t claim to understand what’s going on in your head, but they can’t deny you something that makes you happy,” she said with a smile. “And they know he makes you happy when he’s awake.”

Harry nodded before frowning. “I don’t…I don’t really know what I’m getting myself into, do I?” Harry asked.

Lily smiled sadly. “Take Severus off of your back,” she instructed. Harry looked at her and she nodded. “Just as we protected you from the Dementors in the Forbidden Forest, so will we protect both of you from Death now.”

Harry carefully pulled the invisibility cloak off Severus and unlatched the harness. He lowered the man to the ground carefully, propping him up on his rucksack as he turned to his mother.

“You will both bathe in the river—I know it’s cold, but you have to. Then you’ll follow the river up to Woodhenge. There are manmade tributaries and diversions, just trust your feet,” Lily said. Harry nodded.

“Death knows what you are doing, Harry, even if he can’t always see you. There is no soul in the universe that Death would like to have more than yours, especially if you’re following such a treacherous path. You’ve defied him so many times. The problem is, Death does not get the soul who is taken by the Dementors. You will have to be careful, as he will do what he must in order to find you and take you before anything else can,” she continued. Harry swallowed hard.

“The Dementors won’t get me either,” he whispered. Lily smiled brightly, tears running down her cheeks.

“I hope so, baby, I really do,” she whispered. “Take the Resurrection Stone out.”

Harry pulled the stone out of his pocket and held it in his hand. She smiled at him.

“Flip it three times,” Lily instructed. Harry did so, eyes widening as with each flip his mother appeared more solid. She smiled at him again and held out her arms. Harry ran into them and hugged her tightly, inhaling her scent, memorizing the way she felt. Her arms wrapped around him and squeezed as she gently rocked back and forth.

“I love you, Harry James Potter, more than you could ever understand. I am so sorry for everything life has handed you…know that we are all so very proud of you,” Lily said, desperation in her voice as Harry buried his face in her hair.

She smelled like sunshine, jasmine, and a clean smell that Harry could’ve sworn he’d smelled before somewhere, perhaps in a laundry soap that he had used once. Her hair was soft against his face as he buried his face in her shoulder.

Harry hugged his mother with everything he had, a lifetime of hugs he had never received and would never receive again.

“I love you,” he choked. “I love you so much.” Lily’s hands began to shake and she pulled back. Harry could feel a patch of wet on his own shoulder from where her tears fell.

“Take care of Severus, and know that we are always here for you, Harry,” she whispered, brushing a piece of stray hair off Harry’s forehead. Harry nodded, feeling the tears threaten to fall.

“Drop the stone, honey,” she said.

Harry shook his head. “Why?” he asked, feeling very much like a child.

Lily smiled slightly. “I don’t want you to have to watch me die again,” she said. Harry felt horror and realization creep into his system and he nodded, holding the stone out. He looked at the three men standing to the side, and then back to his mother.

“Hug them all for me?” he asked. She nodded, her face turning every paler by the second.

“Good bye, love,” she whispered.

“See you later, Mum,” he replied, dropping the stone to the ground. The moment it left his fingertips, all four disappeared. Harry closed his eyes and committed the moment to memory. He wrapped his arms around himself and sighed, still able to smell his mother. Severus moaned from the ground, and Harry turned to the river. He dipped his hand into the water and cursed. It was freezing. He hadn’t brought extra clothes for them; he had only brought extra pants for Severus—so that Harry could clean up any accident that might occur during the trip, before waking him up at Woodhenge.

With a sigh, Harry looked around for any signs of other humans. While there were paths seemingly smoothed into the ground, there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger of someone showing up. He quickly stripped out of his own clothing, bundling it up tightly and taking the rucksack from underneath Severus to store it in. Then he slowly undressed Severus, exposing the man’s pale skin to the cold night air. Severus groaned in protest and Harry bit his lip, doing the same to Severus’ clothes as he had to his own.

“I know it’s cold. C’mon, Sev, you’re going to be all right,” he whispered, lifting the man up slowly and stumbling to the river.

The cold of the water hit his skin and sent a shock through his system, and he grimaced as he dragged Severus in after him. The man began to thrash and moan. Harry instantly put his hand over Severus’ mouth, his heart wrenching at the sound.

“Shh, Sev, shh. This will be quick, we just…we’re just going to dunk down real quick and come back up and get out, okay? Please, Severus…” Harry pleaded, walking further into the river. Severus continued to shout and Harry plugged his nose with his fingers, hoping that the need to breathe through his mouth would quiet the man. Severus continued to thrash about wildly and Harry took a deep breath and dragged them both under the water. He shot back up and took another breath quickly before going back down into the water. He repeated this one more time before shakily heading for the shore. Severus was sputtering for breath, and Harry moved quickly, getting to the shore and pounding Severus a few times on the back. The man spit up water, and Harry felt hot tears streaming down his own face.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” he whispered, gathering Severus into his arms and rocking him back and forth, trying to warm the man with hands as the cold air reacted with the cold water on their skin. They were both shaking hard, and Harry crawled to his rucksack, pulling out his own shirt and quickly drying Severus. He stared at the man’s wet hair and grimaced, pulling a knife out his rucksack.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he kept repeating as he cut off the man’s long hair. The shorter hair would dry faster and there would be less cold and wet that could make Severus sick. Harry cut the majority of the man’s hair as he gained control of himself. He quickly dressed Severus, then dried himself off with his shirt before pulling his other clothes on. He attached the harness to Severus and wrung his shirt out as best as possible before shoving it in his rucksack.

“Underneath the invisibility cloak,” he whispered quietly to the man who was softly whimpering. “We’ll be warm under there, come on, Severus.”

Harry slipped into the harness, putting his rucksack back on his front. He pulled out the invisibility cloak and tossed it over their heads and started to walk, following the trail of the river up, hoping he could generate some body heat from the movement that would warm them up.

 

 

~*~

  
“These are all areas of typically high levels of magic, or old magic, or have myths that are attached to magic,” Hermione stated, pointing at different areas on the map.

“Why would we care if there are only myths of magic and not actual magic?” Bill asked, leaning forward. Hermione glanced at him.

“We must remember that myths are not simply born; they always come out of some sort of truth, even if that magic is dormant, or was broken by the slow passage of time wearing on the building—something still happened there,” she stated.

Kingsley nodded. “That’s still a lot of ground, but it’ll give us something more concrete to concentrate on. Any places in particular we should be focusing on?” he asked.

Hermione sighed and looked at the map. “All of them. If we were at a solstice and not an equinox, I’d lean more towards Stonehenge but…I don’t honestly know,” she stated. Kingsley sighed.

“And we can’t stop him anyway,” Ron stated.

“What do you mean, dear?” Molly asked, leaning forward. Ron looked at her.

“Let’s say he’s already started working on the magic—that’s ancient magic we’re talking about. We don’t know what interrupting the flow will do to him, or Severus. And if we stop him before he can at least try to save Severus—say we get there before he starts—then where does that leave us and him?” he asked.

“So you’re saying we wait?” Kingsley asked. “We don’t actually know if he’s out there right now, but just in case he is, we wait until it’s over, and hope we show up before he disappears again?”

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, before Hermione nodded and sighed.

“We wait.”

 

 

~*~

  
 _It felt like he had been waiting for an eternity to see that silvery doe emerge from the woods in front of him. She carefully moved towards him, looking for others to be around._

 _“Just Hermione, she’s asleep,” Harry whispered, reaching out to touch the doe. The doe butted her hand against his hand before turning, walking into the forest. Harry smiled and followed, his heart beating faster with each step. Finally, they reached a clearing and the doe disappeared. Harry swallowed and looked around._

 _“Severus?” he whispered. The man stepped out of the shadows quietly and Harry gasped. He hadn’t seen him since the night Dumbledore died. He remembered Severus’ harsh instruction, “Chase me, you fool!” then running through the castle after Severus and Draco, dodging spells, and finally onto the lawn. He remembered desperately wanting to speak to the man, to say one last thing before it all ended like this. He cast spells and curses. He was terrified and relieved when Severus finally sent the others along before turning to Harry, as if to take care of the boy himself. They exchanged a few curses. Despite knowing why Dumbledore was dead, it didn’t stop the anger from coursing through Harry's body. Anger that dissipated as Severus leaned forward as if to insult him. Instead he whispered, “Your stag shall find a companion, should you ever need me,” before disappearing._

 _Now that man stood in front of him, looking better and worse at the same time._

 _“Mr. Potter,” Severus greeted him quietly, staying on the edge of the clearing. Harry felt his heart leap and before he knew it he was in front of the man, a sound punch delivered to the other man’s face._

 _“I told you to call me Harry,” he snarled, not sure where this anger was coming from as he immediately wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck and buried his face into his chest. One of Severus’ hands went to Harry's face while the other wrapped around him._

 _“You’re lucky you didn’t break my nose, you impudent whelp,” he snarled. Harry snorted._

 _“Might’ve helped you out, had I,” he muttered, tightening his arms around the man. “You’re safe.” Severus sighed and tightened his arms around Harry._

 _“As are you.”_

 _They caught each other up quickly, Harry frowning as he was told about the taboo on Voldemort’s name._

 _“Don’t know how I’m going to explain that I know that to Hermione,” he muttered._

 _Severus kissed the top of Harry’s head when he heard about Ron leaving, but said nothing._

 _“When will I see you next?” Harry asked, knowing that they had both been away from their respective posts for far too long._

 _“You shall see my doe again soon,” Severus stated. “Me, however…”_

 _Harry swallowed. “I lov-” Severus placed his fingers on Harry’s mouth._

 _“You will see me at least once more before you defeat Voldemort. Probably during the final battle. I’ve no doubt I’ll have to tell you some new piece of information then, and then you may say whatever you wish and blame it on the heat of the battle later when you realize the truth,” he said._

 _Harry’s eyes hardened. “It is the truth,” he hissed._

 _“One that does not need to be spoken,” Severus replied. Harry leaned forward and they kissed briefly._

 _“Do you already have that piece of information?” Harry asked, his tone implying he knew that Severus already did. Severus stared at him._

 _“I need to confirm a few things first,” he said. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. Severus took Harry’s hand in his own and raised it, kissing the back of it._

 _“Stay alive, Severus Snape,” Harry whispered, his voice filled with emotion, the words meaning so much more than what they said. They stared at each other for several moments before Severus stepped back._

 _“You too, Harry Potter.”_

Hours had passed and still Harry walked. They had gone over more roads and past more dogs barking in their backyards at that presence they could smell, sense, but not see. The invisibility cloak and the walking had warmed Harry up, but he was worried for Severus, who still kept moaning.

Harry’s leg was in significant pain and his eyes were drooping. Still, the sky hadn’t lightened yet. There seemed to be time. With a sigh, Harry stopped walking near a large smooth rock, and swayed.

“I have to take a break,” he whispered to nobody. He undid the harness and carefully maneuvered himself with Severus to lie on the large rock next to the river, the invisibility cloak over them. He held Severus tight and ran his hands up and down the man’s arms.

“Almost there,” he murmured quietly, his eyes slipping closed.

 

 

~*~

  
“If nothing happens tonight, Hermione…” Ron asked, slipping into a seat next to her. Most everyone else had found a place to take a nap in the conference room, waiting for the alarms to blare. Hermione looked over at him and sighed, leaning against his shoulder.

“We stop looking, and get married in June,” Hermione replied. Ron sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“We’ll find him, I think you’re right. I feel it too.” Hermione nodded.

“Deluminator acting inspiring?” she asked with a smile. Ron grinned.

“No lights whispering my name with his voice, so…nope,” he replied, tightening his arm around her.

“I just wish…what if something goes wrong? And we’re not there to help him?” she asked. Ron looked at her.

“In the end, it was always just Harry, you know. We might’ve gotten him there, but it was always him in the end. That’s the part he’s good at...he figured out the parts we could’ve helped with on his own. Now we just have to trust him,” he murmured.

“Trust Harry to take out the big bad injustice in the world,” Hermione murmured. Ron nodded, thinking of Voldemort.

“Trust Harry to right the wrongs.”

 

 

~*~

  
 _Harry felt the scales coil around him loosely as hisses filled his ears. His eyes snapped open and he stared at the large snake slowly wrapping itself around him._

 _“Voldemort,” he growled. The snake’s red eyes glowed, and it seemed to chuckle._

 _“It has been too long, dear Harry,” he hissed. Harry narrowed his eyes._

 _“Not long enough. What are you doing, Tom?”_

 _Voldemort chuckled again, the action looking weird on a hissing snake. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m killing you.”_

 _“You’re dead,” Harry told him. The coils around Harry tightened and he gasped at the sudden pressure._

 _“Am I? Are you sure? Yours would have been an amazing body to have, had I realized what you were sooner. Perhaps I have found a way back,” Voldemort hissed. Harry refused to struggle, not allowing the panic inside him to take over._

 _“This is a dream,” he stated._

 _Voldemort continued to chuckle. “Nobody defies death and gets away with it, Harry, you showed me that. If this is a dream, it is one you will not be waking from.”_

 _Harry’s eyes widened as the hissing around him increased. He swallowed hard and felt the scales sliding against his arm. He had to wake up, had to make sure Severus was safe. Voldemort opened his mouth, his fangs dripping with venom. Harry lurched forward towards him, screaming._

The Elder Wand was in hand, as Harry blasted the snake about to bite him. The invisibility cloak had slipped off him as he slept and there was a large number of snakes around the rock. Frantically Harry felt for the edge of the cloak and reached under to check on Severus.

Still breathing.

Harry dropped the cloak back down and scrambled to stand on the rock.

 _“Leave,”_ he hissed. The snakes all seemed to stop and stare in surprise.

 _“He speaks,”_ they hissed in chorus.

 _“I speak and I have destroyed the King Snake, the Basilisk, before. Whatever force has sent you here knew that an attack would lead to your deaths. Leave,”_ Harry hissed. The snakes quickly dispersed and Harry looked around wildly. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. The sky was no longer black, but grey, and Harry could hear birds, and more car movement. Cursing, he whipped the invisibility cloak off Severus and attached himself to the harness before replacing the cloak once more. His left leg was stiff with pain, but Harry ignored it as he walked quickly.

 _Harry watched as the memories swirled around him before finally settling down. Severus stood staring at himself in the mirror of his bathroom._

 _“Hello, Harry,” he whispered. Harry frowned and looked around, not seeing himself anywhere as Severus sighed._

 _“This is stupid, making a memory to pass on information,” Severus growled, stalking out of the bathroom. Realization dawning, Harry followed him quickly and watched as Severus poured himself a drink._

 _“I’d offer you some, but you’d find it hard to drink in another person’s memory,” Severus stated before downing his Firewhiskey in one go, then poured himself some more. “Have a seat in your chair.”_

 _Heart pounding, Harry sat in the chair he had claimed as his own in Severus’ sitting room. He tucked his feet up underneath him and watched memory-Severus swirl his drink around before straightening and going to his own chair._

 _“No Occlumency lesson tonight,” Severus murmured and Harry smiled wryly at the man, wishing he could touch him, wondering if Kreacher was keeping the real man alive._

 _“I’ll keep this simple. You’ve seen through the course of the memories I have hopefully given you that Albus Dumbledore did, in fact, ask me to kill him. You’ve seen things you already knew. You’ve seen your mother. And you’ve seen snippets of a conversation with Albus, the nature of which I am about to divulge.” Severus paused and grabbed his drink, swallowing some of it down quickly and staring at the chair in which Harry sat._

 _“If you are seeing these memories, it means I am probably dead, or close to it. Which we will discuss shortly.” Severus stopped and shook his head._

 _“This is stupid, I can’t do this,” he muttered. Harry leaned forward._

 _“Yes you can, Sev,” he whispered. Severus’ head snapped forward, staring at the chair, staring at_ Harry _as if he’d heard the words. Severus swallowed hard and Harry gripped the edges of his chair. The chair in which he’d had an orgasm, fallen asleep, and spent so many other nights on._

 _“When Voldemort went to kill you, Harry, he knew that your death, the death of an infant, would be used to create his final Horcrux. But then it rebounded.” Severus’ voice was shaky and Harry felt his veins turn to ice._

 _“Have you never wondered if there were more to your connection? Your ability to speak to snakes, hear his thoughts—hear the other Horcruxes? Just because Voldemort was not successful in killing you does not mean he was not successful in creating a Horcrux.”_

 _The scene swirled and Harry found himself in Dumbledore’s office again. His hands were clenched into fists and he felt as if he were barely breathing. The windows were dark and Fawkes sat silent as Severus sat quite still, as Dumbledore walked around him, talking._

 _“Harry must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary; otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?”_

 _“But what must he do?” Severus asked, and though Dumbledore did not see it, Harry could tell that Severus was merely acting the part, knowing of Harry’s task. Learning of it from Harry himself._

 _“This is between Harry and me. Now listen closely, Severus. There will come a time—after my death—do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake”_

 _“For Nagini?” Severus looked astonished._

 _“Precisely. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bidding, but keeps it safe beside him under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry.”_

 _“Tell him what?”_

 _Dumbledore took a deep breath and closed his eyes._

 _“Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort’s soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsing building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort’s mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.”_

 _Harry was shaking; he didn’t want to continue, but the memory continued._

 _“So the boy…the boy must die?” asked Severus, seemingly calm, but Harry saw the way his pinky moved across the armrest, ever so slowly, as if discreetly scratching an itch._

 _“And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.”_

 _There was a long silence. Severus’ finger moved slightly faster as he said, “I thought…all these years…that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.”_

 _His voice was gruff. Despite the news, Harry marveled at the way Severus seemed to be able to lie to Dumbledore so smoothly. Hiding from him the truth of the turn their relationship had taken._

 _“We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength,” said Dumbledore, his eyes tightly shut. “Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort.”_

 _Dumbledore opened his eyes. Severus looked horrified._

 _“You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?”_

 _“Don’t be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?”_

 _“Lately, only those whom I could not save,” said Severus. He stood up. “You have used me.”_

 _“Meaning?”_

 _“I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Harry Potter safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter—”_

 _“But this is touching, Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?”_

 _The memory swirled again, and Harry was back in Severus’ sitting room, sitting in his chair. He longed to actually be there, and not swirling around these blasted memories. Severus seemed to be staring straight into Harry morosely._

 _“I have tried to hope that perhaps there will be some way out of this. After all, the ring was still a ring, was it not? Slytherin’s locket, still a locket. Perhaps your body will still be your body and only Voldemort’s soul needs to be vanquished. But…” Harry stared at Severus. The professor’s eyes were bloodshot._

 _“Harry, if you are seeing this, I am dead, or nearly, and I want you to know that I will be there for you. Waiting for you, should you die. And should some miracle among miracles happen and you don’t have to die…” Here Severus seemed to pause but he barreled on._

 _“Move on, find love closer to your own age, and live a happy life.”_

 _Harry chuckled bitterly. "For the next five minutes, live happy, Harry," he told himself sarcastically._

 _Severus closed his eyes, as if hearing him, and sighed._

Harry darted across the road and sighed happily on the other side. There was only this field, a small road, and then he’d be there. The sky was getting lighter. Before Harry could take another step, there was laughter again. Harry turned and saw another small child apparition, different from the first. He desperately tried to ignore the blood on her face before she shook her head and it disappeared.

“Sacrifice,” he muttered, pulling the invisibility cloak back so it only surrounded Severus, and walking on. This apparition was not like the first. Instead of dancing circles around Harry, she walked quietly, looking longingly at his hand. He reached out and felt her ghostly cold fingers wrap around his own. Together they walked across the field, the road, and into Woodhenge.

“There are no people about,” he said quietly. The apparation smiled brightly at him. Harry blinked.

“Thank you,” he whispered. She bounded forward and into the center of the circle. Harry followed her and watched as she looked at the ever-brightening horizon, and disappeared. Harry quickly took the invisibility cloak off Severus and unattached the harness. He sat Severus propped up against one of the concrete markers symbolizing one of the tall wooden posts long gone. He put his rucksack down and put the invisibility cloak on so that his head and front were visible, as if it were a normal cloak. Then he looked around.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” he stated, Elder Wand in one hand and Resurrection Stone in the other. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“A morte Servi Dei mortem mihi,” he whispered. The tip of the Elder Wand glowed brightly before diminishing. Harry opened his eyes, then went to Severus; he carried him to the middle of the circle, where they sat and began waiting.

Moments later a Dementor appeared. Harry felt the chill to his core and he stood. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, its beams not yet fully formed.

“Reddentem tulisti repone alterum,” Harry said, pointing his wand at the Dementor.

It was like being slammed into by Grawp. Harry hit the ground outside of the innermost ring of concrete posts with a harsh gasp. He rolled onto his stomach and watched in horror as the Dementor lowered its hood and descended onto Severus.

“No,” Harry gasped, lifting up and crawling forward. The man had nothing left but his very life force, and Harry would be damned if the creature would steal that from him. He tried to crawl forward, but except for his right hand, scrambling for purchase in the soil, he couldn’t move at all. He glanced down and blinked as he realized the invisibility cloak covered his right hand. He flipped the cloak over his body with that hand and finally was able to crawl forward frantically, his left leg protesting every movement. As Harry neared the Dementor and Severus, he frowned. It seemed as if the flow was reversed. Severus seemed to breathe in deeply and the Dementor was turning an ashen grey. Harry flipped the cloak completely off and grabbed Severus’ hand. He watched in half-fascination and half-horror as Severus began to rouse as if waking from a deep sleep. The Dementor tore back with an inhuman screech, but Harry couldn’t be fazed as he reached forward and brushed his hand across Severus’ face.

“Sev?” he asked quietly, elation overwhelming him as Severus' brow furrowed. Harry was so ecstatic that he didn’t feel the icy hands grab him. The Dementor was crawling on the ground, looking like no more than a grotesque and badly burned skeleton with no eyes. Harry stared at where the creature’s eyes should have been as the creature overtook him, skeletal hands wrapped around Harry’s neck, mouth lowering down over Harry's mouth. All Harry could think about was how alive Severus looked.

 

 

~*~

  
“Minister, there’s an incredibly high level of magic in the Amesbury area,” Kaphgan shouted from his portrait. All heads in the conference room shot up as Hermione, Kingsley, and Ron stood.

“Stonehenge,” Hermione whispered.

“Assemble a team immediately,” Kingsley instructed the portrait.

“Wait!” Ron shouted. “You have to proceed with extreme caution. The spell may not be completed.”

 

 

~*~

  
Severus Snape was uncomfortable. He was not floating in a sea of painful agony; he was just uncomfortable, as if lying on cold, wet, hard ground while a Muggle vacuumed nearby. Severus’ eyes flew open and he watched as his hand shot out, a bolt of silver knocking back the Dementor that had been attacking the man next to him. His doe Patronus materialized and stood proudly in front of the Dementor who appeared, by all accounts, to be closer to death than a normal Dementor was, if such a thing were possible. Severus rolled over to the aging man next to him. The man’s hair was shockingly white, his skin frail and wrinkled. Severus leaned over him, hoping to wake the man enough to help them both get out of this strange place with the Dementor. Severus did not know if he had his wand, and knew that his wandless magic was an uncontrollable burst that would not last long. He turned the man towards him and gasped.

“Harry?” he croaked, his voice rough with disuse. He heard the Dementor screech. Panicking, he looked over and watched as his Patronus gave one more charge at the Dementor into the rising sun. As Severus leaned forward, his hand slipped on something silky and smooth. Recognizing the invisibility cloak, he quickly rearranged himself to hold Harry in his lap in front of him and pulled the cloak over them both. The Dementor began to move towards the last place it had seen its two victims, and screeched at their disappearance. Severus held onto Harry tightly, watching the malformed Dementor twist around desperately as if trapped.

“Finish the spell, Severus,” Lily’s voice whispered in his ear. Severus glanced around wildly, looking for a wand. He saw the Elder Wand in Harry’s withered hand. Clasping the hand gently, Severus lifted both wand and hand outside of the cloak, sparing a fleeting thought to the time that had passed since he’d last seen Harry. He pointed the wand in Harry’s hand toward the Dementor. As the first ray of sun finally broke over the horizon, Severus felt the spell take over.

“Sol sit tibi vita dolori.”

The sunlight hit at the same moment the spell did. Underneath the horrible scream from the Dementor, the earth rumbled. Severus pulled their hands back underneath the invisibility cloak and held Harry tightly, his eyes shut tight. The Dementor exploded in a burst of light and chorus of agony as large trees, tall with no branches, burst from the earth where the concrete markers sat. Severus breathed deeply, shaking as he felt the earth and air settle around him. He opened his eyes to a more familiar mop-top of black hair.

“Wake up,” he whispered quietly. Harry shifted and groaned.

“Severus,” he mumbled. Severus tightened his arms.

“Wake up, Harry,” he whispered again. Harry’s eyes flew open, and he pulled away from Severus’ arms, whirling around and knocking the invisibility cloak off them both. Harry stared at Severus with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, it worked,” he said, reaching forward to touch Severus’ face. “And I’m not dead.” Severus gently grabbed Harry’s hand on his face.

“You saved me. How long…?” He swallowed hard.

“We’ve been on the run for a little over a year,” Harry stated. His eyes widened as he thought about it. “We have to get out of here, now.”

He quickly cast about for his belongings before freezing.

“Why are there trees?” Harry asked.

“They appeared when the Dementor exploded,” Severus said, coughing slightly at the dryness in his throat. Harry shook his head.

“We need to run, now,” Harry said. Severus didn’t ask why. Together they grabbed the cloak and rucksack. Harry grimaced as he stood but went forward, Severus following and watching as the young man limped. They had just left the inner circle of trees when the child apparition appeared, face bloodied, looking angry. She reached towards Harry who backed up quickly.

“She thought I was going to stay with her, shit,” Harry cursed. He started to reach for the invisibility cloak when a pop of Apparition resounded from nearby. Eyes wild, he grabbed Severus.

“Don’t Apparate to the safe house, they’ll trace your magic,” Severus warned. Harry looked at the man and a flash of relief raced across his eyes.

“Yeah.” And with that they were gone.

 

 

~*~

  
“They’ve Apparated,” someone shouted. Hermione stood staring at the scene in front of her, slightly gobsmacked. Ron ran towards her.

“Hermione, come on, we can use the Deluminator to track his Apparition,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward a few steps. Hermione pulled her arm back and stopped.

“Ron, they’re trees,” she whispered, staring at the tall trunks that seemed to narrow into tips at the top in order to make room for the sparse foliage that was absent from the rest of the tree. Ron grabbed Hermione’s face in his hands.

“And we can discuss the complexity of the magic later, but right now, Hermione, we need to get Harry.”

 

 

~*~

  
Harry’s leg crumpled underneath him and he cursed.

“Can you walk?” Severus asked, catching him before he fell.

“Carried your ass ten kilometers, I can manage a few more meters,” Harry hissed bitterly, forcing himself to stand. They quickly ran to another spot, Harry grabbing Severus.

“Somewhere else, close,” Severus murmured as they Apparated again. Each time they repeated the process, Harry’s leg twisted more and more underneath him until they were near the spot they’d originally Apparated to, hidden in the brush.

“I’ll Apparate us to the safe house, they won’t think to trace my magic,” Severus whispered as they started to move further into the brush, away from the spot they’d originally landed on, listening intently for sounds of people following.

“You don’t know where it is,” Harry said, limping heavily and clutching on to Severus for support.

“Then tell me,” Severus growled. They stopped and stared at each other for a moment before Harry sighed and pushed gently at Severus’ mind with Legilimency. Severus pushed back, slowly entering Harry’s mind.

 _A girl with brown hair and bright brown eyes. A bakery. A bookshop. A large tree with branches spanning out, leafless in the cold winter setting. A street sign in French. A small cottage. Mountains._

“You couldn’t just say it?” Severus muttered.

“I don’t know the place. Safer that way, I figure,” Harry muttered. Severus rolled his eyes before a pop of Apparition came from behind them. They stilled, staring back at the clearing they had came from, Harry’s breath quickening.

“Here, here…where…they’re close!” Words popped out from general murmuring.

“Hermione,” Harry whispered, a strange note in his voice. Severus looked at Harry, who didn’t spare a thought, and started to walk briskly further away from the spot. As he took a step, his left foot fell into a hidden pit in the ground and his leg twisted hard as he fell. Severus rushed forward as Harry bit on his own hand hard, tears welling in his eyes.

“Apparate, now,” Harry gasped as Severus looked down and saw the bone sticking out of Harry’s leg.

“You’ll be splinched,” he hissed.

“They’ll find us!” Harry choked out, rocking back and forth and shaking. “Please.”

Severus looked up.

“There was a noise over here!” Hermione’s voice shouted. Something pushed through the brush towards them.

“I found another Apparition point!” Ron called.

“Please,” Harry begged, looking ready to vomit. Severus wrapped his arms around Harry.

“Wait,” Severus whispered. Whoever had been moving closer to them turned and headed towards Ron’s voice. Severus tightened his grip around Harry.

“Please god, Severus,” Harry gurgled around his hand.

Severus closed his eyes and listened hard for the first small crack of Apparition that usually went unnoticed before the louder pop. He Apparated immediately after.

 

 

~*~

  
Blood ran everywhere. Harry screamed loudly as they hit the floor of the cottage. Severus scrambled up and watched as Harry grasped for his leg, severed just below the knee, hanging on by a thin piece of skin and a single tendon.

“KREACHER!” Severus roared as Harry screamed louder. Kreacher appeared with Wimbly, who gasped loudly.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione stared around the forest with a frown. Ron came up beside her.

“What do you think?”

“I think I wasn’t crazy when I thought I heard a second Apparition pop right after yours…” she replied. Ron sighed.

“We aren’t finding any trace of Harry’s magic, Hermione,” he said.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Have we looked for Severus’?”

Ron cursed. “By this point, the trace would be gone,” he said, regret apparent in his voice. Hermione shook her head.

“No matter, there’s no telling if they’d go straight to their safe house or not—Ron, what is wrong with this scene?” she asked suddenly, arm sweeping in front of her, motioning to the area that she was looking at. Ron straightened up and looked around carefully.

“Disturbance there, in the leaves,” he said. They moved forward towards where the leaves that coated the forest floor were displaced.

“There’s a hole in the ground,” Ron said, moving some more leaves around with his foot. Hermione bent down and picked up a single leaf.

“And blood on the leaves,” she said, turning the leaf over so Ron could see the sticky layer of dark blood on it.

 

 

~*~

  
“Would Master Snape like Wimbly to even out his hair cut?” the house-elf asked quietly. Severus turned away from Harry, fast asleep in the bed, his leg wrapped and mostly healed, propped up by every pillow they could find, it seemed. He arched his eyebrow.

“My hair cut?” he asked, lifting one hand up, not noticing the dried blood, and running his hand through his hair. His eyes widened as he realized the uneven cut.

“What…” he asked. Wimbly produced a mirror and handed it to Severus. His hair looked rough and untamed, like a small child had taken a pair of scissors to it. He shook his head in disbelief and handed Wimbly the mirror. He had never had short hair.

“Yes, sure, of course,” he murmured, watching as Kreacher came back with another potion and carefully administered it to Harry. Wimbly disappeared and returned with a chair, and Severus promptly sat down. As she cut Severus’ hair, she whispered quietly in his ear as Kreacher seemed to check on a few more things.

“Kreacher is always reading reading reading healer books since the first time Master Harry splinched his leg. It was before Wimbly came, but Kreacher talks about it often. He says it was after your trial,” Wimbly said. Severus swallowed as Kreacher gave Harry another potion.

“Kreacher is always worried for Master Harry. He can’t fix things perfect, he says, but he can try. Wimbly thinks he’ll do a much better job this time. Kreacher said it was worse too,” she said. Harry murmured and his eyes fluttered open and he looked at Kreacher.

“Kreacher is happy to be seeing Master Harry awake. Does Master Harry have pain?” Kreacher asked. Harry swallowed and shrugged a little.

“Dull ache. Not as bad as last time; did you find a better pain potion, Kreacher?” Harry asked. Kreacher nodded.

“Kreacher looked very hard for this pain potion. Had to go to Hogwarts and find a book even,” Kreacher said. Harry smiled.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” he whispered.

“Master Harry is being reminded by Kreacher to no longer Apparate with broken legs,” Kreacher lectured. Before Harry could reply, Wimbly spoke.

“Wimbly is done!” she said, jumping down from the stool she had placed behind Severus’ chair. She picked up the mirror she had procured earlier and handed it to Severus, who ran a hand through his short hair. Harry turned quickly and gasped.

“I forgot…you’re…awake…” he whispered. Severus hummed and inspected the sides of his head. Harry sighed heavily.

“I had to drag you into the river…it was wet and cold, and I couldn’t use magic, so…so I cut it off with a knife, I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. Severus shrugged.

“It looks fine. Merlin knows your mother always suggested it,” he said, his voice more secure after an hour of water and talking with the house-elves, barking orders back and forth as they repaired Harry’s leg. “That hardly means it will be a permanent change, however.”

“Severus,” Harry whispered, staring at him from the bed. Severus handed the mirror back to Wimbly and stared back. Harry seemed to snap out of it and looked to Kreacher quickly.

“They’ll no doubt be at Grimmauld looking for you, and answers,” Harry said.

“Kreacher will go back now. Kreacher has not seen or heard from his Master Harry in weeks, and is quite worried,” he said, grabbing his locket and looking nervous, acting the part out. Harry nodded.

“Wimbly will clean up here and stay for tomorrow,” Wimbly said, brushing up the stray hairs. Kreacher disappeared with a pop. Harry smiled at Wimbly.

“Thank you, Wimbly,” he said.

“Is Master Snape needing Wimbly to set up his bed for him?” she asked. Before Severus could reply, Harry answered.

“Severus will sleep in here, Wimbly.” Wimbly nodded.

“Wimbly will check the kitchen for breakfasts in the morning,” she said and scampered out the door. Severus slowly got up and sat on the edge of the bed. Harry crinkled his nose.

“Is that my blood?” he asked. The younger man moved very little, trying to keep his head in place. Severus looked down at his arm.

“Yes,” he whispered. Harry reached forward and brushed Severus’ arms with his fingers. Severus toed off his shoes and crawled into the bed, settling down next to Harry on his side. Harry stared at him.

“You’re really awake.”

“Yes.”

Harry smiled, his eyes misting up with tears as he reached forward, twisting his body awkwardly so his damaged leg stayed on the pillows, but so he could wrap his arms around Severus as much as he could. Severus scooted closer and wrapped his own arms around Harry, letting his eyes slip closed as all the energy left him.

 

 

~*~

  
 _“Master Harry!” Kreacher shouted, running out of the kitchen as Harry landed in the front hall, lying across Severus._

 _“Wake him up,” Harry whispered. Kreacher looked at Severus, who seemed to be staring at nothing at all, and at Harry whose blood was seeping through his trousers._

 _“Master Harry is bleeding,” Kreacher said, urgently moving forward. Harry ignored him and grasped Severus’ face._

 _“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” he whispered desperately, staring into the man’s lifeless eyes, not noticing as Kreacher quickly cut his trousers off his leg and frantically tried to staunch the bleeding. Harry lay on top of Severus, using him as a pillow, holding him, listening to his heart beat, pleading with the man to wake up as Kreacher fixed his leg._

 _Harry passed out for a time, allowing Kreacher to move him and force various potions down his throat to help him._

 _When Harry woke up, he saw Kreacher, sitting against the wall, anxiously waiting for Harry to wake up._

 _“Has the_ Evening Prophet _come in?” Harry asked. Kreacher nodded. He scuttled away, coming back a few moments later with a copy of the paper. He handed it to Harry. Harry sat up enough to read the paper, keeping as close contact to Severus as possible._

 _The headline read in large letters: “Dementors Destroyed!” with a tag line that made Harry’s stomach flip. “Potter’s Powers Out of Control in Wake of Guilty Verdict.”_

 _A pounding at the door interrupted Harry’s reading. He looked up warily._

 _“Harry!” Hermione’s voice shouted. “Harry, let us in! Harry, I know you’re there! Harry let us help you!”_

 _Harry looked back down at the paper. An image of Hermione’s arm with the word ‘Mudblood’ freshly carved into it passed across his mind. He felt the wood of a wand hit his palm. He wrapped his fingers around it before holding up the Elder Wand. Bile rose in his mouth and Harry closed his eyes as terror overtook him._

 _“_ Rennervate,” _he whispered, pointing the wand at Severus. Nothing happened. Not even the most powerful wand could wake the man up. He threw the wand at the wall._

 _“Harry, please!” Hermione’s voice shouted. “We’ll get this fixed, we’ll clear both of your names and get Severus to St. Mungo’s where they can help him!”_

 _St. Mungo’s, where they would let Severus rot away with no soul, uncared for and unloved until he stopped breathing one day. Harry felt his jaw set in steely determination even as another wave of exhaustion overtook him. He looked at Kreacher who was staring anxiously at the door._

 _“No visitors. I’m not here, and you don’t know where I’ve gone. Find a safe place to hide, several of them, and find a helper. Another elf, who you can trust,” Harry murmured, lying back down to pillow his head on Severus’ chest. The man’s heart beat steadily. Kreacher hesitated as the knocks continued before nodding._

 _“Yes, Master Harry,” Kreacher breathed with resignation._

 _Covered in his own blood, Harry fell asleep to the rhythm of Hermione's knocking._

 

 

~*~

  
Severus stared at the ceiling and flexed his fingers, a slow smile forming on his face as he heard Harry huff in his sleep.

Had he hoped for this, when he was lost inside of the sea of misery?

Severus turned his head slightly and looked at Harry who had shuffled off him in his sleep, for a more comfortable position.

 _“We’ve been on the run for a little over a year.”_

The words rang loudly inside of Severus’ head.

A year. A whole year since his last memory. Severus frowned and turned back to the ceiling. What could he remember?

He remembered the courtroom, the uncomfortable chair. The look in the Interrogator's face. Harry didn’t know, couldn’t know, that Severus had killed the man’s daughter in the first war. No matter what the Wizengamot decided, this man would change it to fit his revenge. Severus remembered the twisting feeling in his stomach, the slight amount of panic. He wanted so badly to turn and look at Harry, to give him some clue, but he was afraid of making things worse.

The sentence barely registered in his brain. It was Harry’s shout and the cold hands wrestling him up out of the chair that brought back his awareness.

They’d appeal. Harry knew that. They never gave the Kiss immediately inside of the courtroom. That was barbaric.

Severus remembered the moment he realized he was wrong. He should’ve never underestimated a grieving father’s need for revenge. He remembered his last thought.

 _“I never told him I love him.”_

Severus shuddered violently as he remembered the agony that had happened next. There was just floating, not knowing, not seeing, not being, just agony, and misery, and anger.

There was time now. Severus looked at Harry again. Time to tell him.

Severus frowned deeply again.

Assuming Harry truly still felt the same way. Severus could only imagine a year alone with a vegetative version of himself, and it wasn’t pleasant.

Nor was the pressure in his bladder. With a sigh, Severus carefully lifted himself up. His arms shook slightly with the pressure, but Severus ignored it as he carefully moved his legs to the side of the bed. It felt as if he were moving through a thick viscous substance, his legs dragging to dangle off the side of the bed. He stared down at his feet, brow furrowed.

His legs looked thin and frail. He knew that Harry had been feeding him, had to be feeding him while he was asleep. He didn’t feel or even look very malnourished. Nevertheless, his legs felt weak, they looked frail. Severus grasped the edge of the bed, ignoring the realization that lingered on the edge of his mind. He carefully pushed himself off the bed.

It was if he were an accordion, and had been stopped from crumpling down completely. Wimbly appeared, her hands raised, her magic keeping Severus from crashing. Her large eyes narrowed in concentration and concern, her large perky ears seeming taller as she pushed Severus up and back onto the bed.

Severus swallowed and closed his eyes, weakly twisting his hands in the blankets at his sides.

“What is Master Snape doing?” Wimbly hissed, quietly grabbing his leg and massaging it. Severus winced in pain as she pressed too hard.

“I had hoped…I needed to use the bathroom,” he coughed out quietly. Harry shifted and groaned, still asleep. Wimbly opened her mouth and then snapped it shut in a frown. She waved her hand in front of Severus’ stomach and he felt the pressure in his bladder disappear.

“Master Snape will call Wimbly if he needs to go to the bathroom again,” she said sternly. Severus closed his eyes as she moved to massage his other leg a little more gently. They stayed that way for a while until Wimbly helped Severus bring his legs up onto the bed, and tucked him in. She smiled down at the wizard sadly.

“Master Snape must remember he has not been walking in very long times. He will need help remembering, Wimbly thinks,” she said kindly. Severus didn’t reply and she quietly left.

Severus stared at the ceiling, his mind racing.

Muscle atrophy. It was a common symptom of being bedridden or injured. He was lucky that he could move what he could, to be honest. There were potions that could treat it, he knew. He had created several.

Severus frowned.

The unfortunate part was that the potions he knew had ingredients native to Great Britain, and not found in the rest of Europe.

He wondered vaguely how well-versed Harry had become in the foreign Wizarding cultures and if they would be able to find an alternative that would work in France.

Harry…

Severus’ eyes widened.

No doubt the boy had expected that as soon as Severus was awake, they’d be able to function semi-normally on the run. He surely had hopes that Severus would be able to move and operate on his own, in a happily-ever-after format.

Yet here Severus lay, awake, but still unable to move much. Would Harry be able to understand that despite Severus’ running around in the forest with him, he’d be unable to do that for possibly many more months, even if he could find a suitable potion?

And how was he able to move anyway?

Here Severus paused and looked back to the ceiling, trying to sort out the puzzle. If he could understand the puzzle, he could better find a solution.

It had to do with the amount of magic that had been released, and the adrenaline that had run through his system. Lifting his hand slowly, he examined it. There was just enough light from the glow of the slowly dying embers in the fireplace to see that several scars Severus knew should be there were missing. He hadn’t been de-aged entirely, but certainly a few years had been shaved off.

Thoughts of magic in his head, Severus called for Wimbly. She appeared with a slight frown on her face.

“Yes, Master Snape?” she asked.

“My wand…” he began to ask before faltering. He was unsure if Harry had managed to grab him and his wand before it was snapped. Wimbly’s facial expression softened.

“Master Harry has it safe, hold on,” she said, disappearing. She reappeared a moment later and handed Severus his wand. His heart soared as he felt the familiar wood in his palm. The house-elf disappeared again as Severus closed his eyes and thought of his first spell.

“ _Lumos_ ,” he whispered, opening his eyes. The light was faint, as if it were a Muggle torch running low on batteries. Severus cancelled the spell quickly and sighed.

His magic was there; wand in hand, he could feel it thrumming through him. However, it was focused on healing and repairing, so that there was little to spare for spells. Clutching his wand to his chest like a child clutching their favorite toy, Severus sank into the pillows around his head and tried to relax into some kind of sleep.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry shifted and groaned. Severus hadn’t made a noise yet, and despite the pressure in his bladder, Harry wanted to enjoy however long he had until the man woke up, crying for food or drink. With a sigh, Harry conceded defeat and without opening his eyes, went to swing his legs off the bed.

The pain was instantaneous.

Harry shouted, his eyes flying open to stare down at his left leg, wrapped in bandages. His mind was foggy with sleep and pain as he tried to process the situation.

“What?” Harry muttered.

“You broke it, and then were splinched when we Apparated,” Severus said. Harry’s wand was instantly in hand as he whirled around, eyes wide. Severus didn’t move. He lay on his back, head barely turned towards Harry, wand clutched to his chest. Realization dawned on Harry.

“Oh shit, oh wow, you’re…am I dreaming?”

Severus arched an eyebrow. “I’ve always been led to believe one cannot feel pain in their dreams. Why don’t you move your leg again?”

Harry grimaced at the thought.

“No, thanks,” he muttered, before his face softened. He reached forward to caress Severus’ cheek. “You really awake?” Severus nodded. Harry broke into a grin. They stared at each other for a moment before Harry made a face.

“I need a pain potion and a piss, then we should go eat breakfast. I’m sure you’re curious as ever.”

“I believe Kreacher left a variety of pain potions on the bedside table, though I hardly recommend walking in your state,” Severus stated.

Harry grinned again and shrugged as he turned around to look for the potions. Finding one, he uncorked the bottle and downed the entire thing. Severus frowned deeply, recognizing the potion as one that should not be taken in high doses. He said nothing, though, as Harry slowly moved off the bed. They both pretended Harry did not grunt or grimace as his foot hit the floor. Harry took his time using every piece of furniture as a crutch as he limped through the room. Severus turned back to the ceiling, flexing his toes and wondering if he could convince Harry to have breakfast in bed. As Harry reached the door, there was a pop and a squeak.

“Master Harry is to be telling Wimbly when he gets up so Wimbly can get help for Master Harry!” the house-elf reprimanded him. Severus felt a smirk cross his face as he turned his head to look. Harry stared at the elf in surprise as Wimbly snapped her fingers and a set of crutches appeared. She handed them to Harry with a stern look.

“I could’ve gotten them myself,” he stated. Wimbly sniffed.

“Wimbly accepts Master Harry’s thanks and apologies. Wimbly is going to make breakfast now,” she said before disappearing. A bemused expression on his face, Harry hopped out of the room into the hallway. Severus sighed and waited until he heard the bathroom door close down the hallway.

“Wimbly,” he called quietly. The house-elf pushed a wheelchair into the room, a kind smile on her face.

“Wimbly is guessing Master Snape needs his special chair Master Harry made for him,” she said gently.

A few moments later, Severus found himself sitting next to the kitchen table, feeling very comfortable in the wheelchair. He assumed it must have once been an armchair, due to its ample padding. He was watching Wimbly scramble eggs when he heard Harry enter and stop at the door.

“Why are you in that chair?” Harry asked, his voice tight.

“Sit,” Severus replied. Harry didn’t move.

“I asked why you’re in that—"

“Sit down, Harry.”

Harry huffed and moved to the table, pulling his own chair out loudly and throwing himself into it, letting his crutches slam into the table as he glared at Severus. His eyes were dilated and Severus wondered briefly if the boy could feel anything at all with the potion thrumming through his system. Wimbly quietly placed the two plates in front of them. She glanced at Severus’ toast and the butter, and smiled as he nodded. She quickly buttered the toast.

“What’s this?” Harry asked gruffly, looking down at his plate. Wimbly seemed to regain her confidence.

“Wimbly made breakfast for Masters Harry and Snape,” she said proudly, ears twitching slightly as she judged his reaction.

“Thank you, Wimbly,” Severus interjected as Wimbly put his toast back on his plate. Severus slowly reached forward. He felt as if more energy had been drained from his body and for a moment regretted the Lumos he had performed the few hours before.

“Why are you—“

“I have muscle atrophy, Potter. Did it not cross your mind once that without daily physical activity my muscles would slowly waste away?” Severus snapped, not looking at Harry as he lifted his fork and stabbed at his eggs. He was angry, angry that Harry was angry. Severus was not used to being a dependent man and yet, here he sat, wondering how many bites of eggs he’d be able to get in before lifting his fork became too exhausting.

“But I…I tried…I…” Harry seemed at a loss for words, his eyes wide as he stared at Severus. Severus felt the anger and the energy rush out of him all at once, as the first taste of eggs hit his tongue. It was as if he had never tasted anything else before. He let his eyes slide shut as he chewed and swallowed.

“You could’ve been a highly trained Healer, and there still would’ve been nothing you could do,” Severus murmured, opening his eyes and going for another bite of eggs. “It’ll take time and work and potions, but I’ll heal.”

“But your magic, shouldn’t that have helped—“

“Magic is linked with the soul, not the body. My magic is attempting to reintegrate itself into my body. Unfortunately surviving two wars and a life as a Potions master means that there are toxins and injuries in my body that are far more important to deal with than weak muscles,” Severus stated, bitterness evident in his tone. He felt pressure building behind his eyes and despite his fingers finally seeming to understand the contours of a fork once more, the effort of holding on too tightly was setting in. He placed the fork down, closing his eyes briefly as it clattered louder than he had anticipated as it fell out of his grasp. He then reached for the toast. He refused to look at Harry, he refused to acknowledge the loss of hope and the despair on the younger man’s face.

“We’ll find you a potion, then,” Harry said, determination strong in his voice. “Surely you know a dozen.”

“I know of two,” Severus stated before taking a bite of the toast.

“And?” Harry asked after Severus took another bite.

“One of them has, unfortunately, a combination of ingredients I am woefully allergic to. The other is not plausible, given our current circumstances,” Severus explained. Harry frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“The potion must be consumed within an hour of the active ingredient being added. An ingredient only found in England, and as we are currently hiding, apparently, in France, as opposed to safely ensconced in the familiar Grimmauld Place, that will not be possible,” Severus said, finally chancing to glance away from his breakfast and towards Harry, whose face was dark.

“Surely there has to be more than that, aren’t you a Potions master?” Harry asked. Severus felt his nostrils flare.

“My Mastery was achieved in England. While I know a fair number of exotic, useful, and internationally recognized potions—potion-making is not Muggle medicine, where the setting of a bone works in all cultures the same. A simple change in the altitude can change the outcome of a brewing process,” Severus snapped, letting the toast drop to his plate. He was tired and had lost his appetite.

Harry seemed to be struggling to say something, anything, and with a sigh, Severus spoke for him.

“Why are we in France, Harry?” he asked.

“It’s an old Black estate. It’s relatively off the radar. Keeps them from finding us,” Harry said.

“And why are we in hiding in the first place?”

“Well I couldn’t let them take you to Azkaban!” Harry shouted before quieting down, his eyes wide and frantic. “Even without your soul…you would’ve died.”

“What happened?” Severus asked quietly. Harry looked past Severus and sucked in a breath. He didn’t see the fork loaded with eggs lift up in front of Severus. Severus glanced at Wimbly and smiled graciously at her twitching ear as he continued to eat. Harry’s eyes went glassy as he seemed to get lost in the memory.

“The trial…the entire time I felt like if I took my eyes off of you for one second, even to blink…you’d disappear forever. I’d never see you again. The second he said, "Guilty"…I had to get to you first. But everybody was moving and shouting. I tripped when the Dementors came in. That’s when my leg broke…” Harry paused and looked down at his leg as if seeing it for the first time wrapped in bandages. He sucked in another breath, still staring at his leg.

“When I got up…it was too late. You were gone. And…there were multiple Dementors I never…I still don’t understand, but there was this one going for this girl, not the one that had gotten you…she had a pad of paper and…I lifted my wand. Only later, I realized it wasn’t my wand, but it was the Elder Wand. I screamed and…” Harry stopped and swallowed, closing his eyes.

“The Dementor exploded,” he murmured. Severus’ eyes went wide and he almost choked on the bite of toast he had just taken.

“It exploded?” he asked incredulously. Harry nodded and looked back up, searching around the room as if looking for an answer. He settled on Severus and lifted his hand up, smacking his lips together to make a popping noise as he curled his fingers in on his hand before popping them out with the sound.

“Exploded. And there were these little white wisps everywhere, and a horrible screaming sound…” Harry trailed off and looked up above Severus’ head, his brow furrowing. “I wonder if those wisps were souls…” They went silent as Severus slowly chewed the breakfast that Wimbly continued to feed to him via magic. He swallowed a bite and leaned forward slightly.

“What happened next, Harry?” The man’s name called him back to attention. Harry shrugged.

“I grabbed you and I Disapparated. I realized that I had made two mistakes…I exploded a Dementor…and I Apparated out of a room in which Apparition and Disapparation should’ve been impossible. That, combined with the fact that I had just run off with a man just sentenced as a criminal, even soulless, I knew that I had to run and hide,” he said. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. Severus waved the next forkful away and Wimbly frowned, crossing her arms and staring at him.

“I knew…I knew the second that I saw the Interrogator presiding over my trial the verdict would be guilty, no matter what the Wizengamot actually said,” Severus whispered. Harry looked at him, confusion on his face. Severus looked away, at the floor.

“I killed his daughter in the first war. It was my initiation as a Death Eater. He had refused to join and so to send a message to the other government officials, we had to go to his home while he was at work.” Severus closed his eyes. He could smell the leather of his first Death Eater mask, feel the frissons of energy running between him and his comrades. The glow of the moonlight reflecting off of Lucius Malfoy’s hair, slipping out from underneath his hood as he turned and winked at Severus.

“They tortured and killed her mother; I didn’t, I had to hold the girl and make her watch. She had just finished at Hogwarts the month before. She was a year younger than I, but I remembered her from the hallways, she was a Ravenclaw.” Severus shuddered violently.

“They made me watch them torture her next, with some basic spells, the very basic. They said it was to learn the art,” Severus sneered, his eyes opening. “They told me it was my turn and I…I couldn’t continue her torture. She'd never spoken to me at Hogwarts, but she'd helped me pick up my books once after your father tripped me in the hallway. So I put her out of her misery instead.”

They sat in silence for several moments before Severus looked up. He didn’t look at Wimbly or Harry.

“Her eyes were green, not as green as yours or your mother's, but they were green. I’ll never forget them. I didn’t go on raids after that. I made up excuses about potions and brewing. Thankfully, the Dark Lord needed a Potions master, so he allowed me to get my mastery from a man he knew he’d never be able to recruit. The Dark Lord killed him not too long after I received my Mastery; it was a few days after I had related the prophecy. Between that and knowing the threat on your mother’s life that I had unintentionally created…I ran to Dumbledore.

“She was the only person I ever directly killed, other than Albus, and I’ve never forgotten her, but I wasn’t surprised when her father ignored every word spoken in that court room,” he whispered. He swallowed hard as the memories overtook him.

A loud crash and a squeak made both men jump and turn. Wimbly was quivering and blowing her nose on a towel.

“Wimbly is sorry!” she wailed, waving her hand absently so that the dishes in the sink would resume cleaning themselves. “Wimbly is just…so…sad for Master Snape!”

Severus’ eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward. Before he could say anything, Harry jumped up out of his seat, leaning against the table.

“What are you doing?” he barked. Wimbly squeaked and stared at him, her ears shaking.

“Master Harry?” she asked.

“The dishes! Stop the dishes!” Harry shouted. Wimbly shuddered and the dishes fell to the sink. Harry’s eyes and hair were wild as he turned on her.

“Get out of here,” he growled. Wimbly gasped and turned pale.

“Potter!” Severus barked. “What are you going on about?”

“You’re using too much magic! They’ll find us!” Harry shouted at Wimbly who seemed to back up and draw herself into her skin. Great big tears fell down her face.

“Wimbly is so sorry! Master Harry! Please don’t make Wimbly leave forever! Please don’t give Wimbly c-cl-clothes!” she cried. “Dobby always said Master Harry was a good man, Wimbly wants so to stay with Master Harry!”

“Dobby? Dobby is dead, what—” Harry shook his head.

“Wimbly worked with Dobby at Hogwarts. Please, Master Harry! Don’t give Wimbly clothes!” she cried. Harry seemed to calm down.

“No clothes, Wimbly, I didn’t mean it like that, just…go to the next house, have it prepared for us. We should be there once I’m more healed,” he said calmly. Wimbly took a great big shuddering sigh.

“But Master Snape is needing Wimbly’s help,” she said shakily. Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve been taking care of him fine by myself,” he snapped. “I don’t need you to help me.”

Wimbly stood up tall and looked at Severus.

“Wimbly is leaving, but should come back if Master Snape calls for her,” she said firmly before disappearing. Harry shook his head.

“Elves,” he grumbled.

“I would’ve appreciated having her help more,” Severus said quietly. Harry glared at him.

“You don’t need a house-elf. I’ve taken care of you just fine by myself.” Severus had no energy to argue with Harry, though he wanted to desperately. Instead he looked away. Harry huffed loudly and grabbed his crutches, hobbling out of the room.

Severus sat in silence for a time before his bladder twisted. With a sigh, he tried to push the wheels on his chair back. He was able to back up from the table, but his arms were shaking as he tried to continue.

“Wimbly,” he murmured. The elf appeared silently in front of him with a smile. She waved her hand over his stomach and he sighed in relief as the pressure eased. She quietly pushed Severus and the chair into his room and helped him into the bed.

“Wimbly is making Master Snape’s chair so that the wheels are light enough to push, but heavy enough to strengthen his muscles, they will change with Master Snape,” she said quietly, tucking him in. Severus hummed his thanks as his eyes grew heavy.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione was almost certain that her bloodstream had turned into a Pepper-up stream, with copious amounts of coffee.

“One of them is hurt,” Ron muttered behind her as she poured another cup of coffee.

“Should have the results back soon. There’s a DNA sample on file for Severus, not for Harry though,” Hermione muttered.

“Think they went back to France?” Ron asked as Hermione sat down at the table in the cold conference room. There were maps and pictures everywhere, of Stonehenge, of Woodhenge, before and after, of Severus and Harry. Kingsley had delegated Ron and Hermione in charge, though at this point everybody who wasn’t trying to find evidence out in the field was sleeping and recovering. Hermione shrugged.

“Had to have. Severus’ file makes it so that we can trace his magic if we need to, as he hasn’t officially been told of his innocence. If he casts a spell in England, we’ll know, and if it was Harry’s blood—he’s probably cast a spell,” Hermione replied.

“So back to France,” Ron muttered. Hermione nodded. They sat in silence, Hermione sipping her coffee, before a man walked in the door. He held a sheaf of papers out to Hermione.

“Test results, didn’t match Severus Snape’s DNA,” he said gruffly before walking out. Hermione fingered the pages quietly.

“So much blood,” she murmured, her face pale.

“We’ll bring Kreacher Blood-Replenishing and pain potions,” Ron said. Hermione smiled tiredly at him.

“We need to narrow down France; he’s not going to sit for long, even injured. I know Harry,” she whispered. Ron stood up and walked to the map of France. With his wand he quickly blacked out several towns and cities, while highlighting a few others.

“There’s a few I want to revisit. We’ll get some rest first and then we’ll go back,” he said. Hermione nodded, setting her mug down and playing with her engagement ring as Ron continued to systematically go over the map.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus sat in the living room, listening intently to the story playing on the strange Muggle contraption. Harry had left a few hours before, pausing long enough to start the story, but not to acknowledge the other man in any other way, mumbling under his breath.

Severus had noticed the habit in force the day before. Harry had come into his room with food a few times, and helped him eat. He had even helped him to the bathroom a few times at Severus’ request, though he had seemed rather shocked at the idea. Occasionally they would share a few words, but both of them were still processing the earlier conversation, and the reality of each other.

Otherwise, the man seemed to be having a constant conversation with himself under his breath.

Severus hadn’t minded. He could feel his magic working through him, needing him to move little, though his body so desperately ached to move.

Now though, now he was hungry, and he could feel the tendrils of anger twisting in his stomach. He had listened in bed to the story playing throughout the house for a time before the need for the bathroom became unbearable. He fought his way into his wheelchair and managed to get to the bathroom without killing himself.

He had hoped that he had taken long enough for Harry to return from his errand, but now sitting in the living room, listening to the war between the sound of the story and the noises of his stomach, he realized the other man would not be returning any time soon. He wheeled into the kitchen and opened the cabinets he could reach before staring at a cabinet above him. With a huff of disappointment, he carefully reached up, hoping it was the correct cabinet. His hand grasped the handle to open it, as the wheelchair began to slip backwards behind him.

Severus’ eyes widened in panic.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry slipped into the grocer’s quietly. He had already been to the bookshop. Harry played the bumbling fool, glad that the man didn’t seem to know him. Their exchange had been in totally different languages, and Harry had a feeling that more insults had passed between the two of them then either would’ve guessed.

“Bonjour!” the bright young woman cried, emerging from the back. She stopped when she saw Harry, a glimmer of almost familiarity passing over her face.

“Hello, do you speak English?” Harry asked. Michele smiled.

“Visiting?” she asked.

“Passing through to get to a relative’s, got a bit turned around to be honest,” he replied with a smile. She grinned.

“It happens. Would you like me to help you get the basics?” she asked. Harry nodded. She smiled at him and shook her head, confusion crossing her face.

“J’ai l’impression de vous connaître,” she said. Harry’s brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, not understanding the complete sentence.

“You look familiar is all,” she said with a laugh. “Like from the movies.”

A few moments later Harry slipped out of the shop, a bag in hand. He walked a few paces before leaning against another building and closing his eyes.

Memories swirled around his head: of lunches spent in the small café down the street, of butchered French and shared experiences. He thought of how in a few hours, Michele would open her till and find more money than what should be in there. He smiled slightly and pushed himself away from the building, turning away from the grocer's and heading down the street.

“Adieu, mon amie,” he whispered quietly to himself, feeling the magic he had set around the town settling into a comfortable embrace around him, as one by one even passersby forgot his face.

As he walked down the street, he thought about the impending move, of getting Severus adjusted, of finding new contacts, learning another new language enough to get by.

In the back of his head, one thought continued to ring.

Severus Snape; alive, awake, conscious.

Harry didn’t want to admit he didn’t know how to cope with this. Obviously, the first step would have to be Severus’ full recovery. Though suddenly Harry didn’t know which conversations were real, and which ones weren't. He found himself replaying memories and trying to dissect if Severus had actually said those things, or if Harry had just been so desperate…

He had gotten so wrapped in his thoughts, he hadn’t even realized how long he had been walking and that he had gotten to his front door. With a sigh he decided to talk more to Severus, find a way to help him. He unlocked the door and opened it.

The groceries crashed to the ground, Harry’s stomach attempting to follow as he heard the familiar shouts and groans.

Heart racing, Harry stood in the door of the home, unable to process what he was hearing until he heard his name shouted.

“Harry! Merlin please be you, you fucking twit!”

Severus hadn’t cursed him in a year.

Harry ran into the house.

“Where are you?”

“Kitchen! Merlin’s balls, augh!” Severus shouted. Harry ran in and saw Severus sprawled on the floor, the wheelchair in the middle of the room, and the cabinet spelled directly to Grimmauld wide open.

“I didn’t feed you,” Harry whispered, horrified.

“I don’t fucking care, my arm!” Severus cried, cradling it. Harry quickly moved forward. Severus’ elbow was rapidly turning a sickening purple, and Harry sucked in a breath.

“I think you broke it, hold on.” He got up and ran to the bathroom, grabbing the medical kit.

A few moments later, Severus was back in his chair, holding his arm tenderly as he felt the potions working through his system. He had been able to walk Harry through a simple broken bone-setting spell, and the rest of the potions were taking away the lingering pain and swelling. Harry was quickly putting together a lunch.

“I’m so sorry, I…I don’t know what came over me, I thought I had fed you,” he was babbling. Severus was exhausted again, and in no mood to hear it.

“Oh it’s fine, I’m sure, I’ve probably missed many other meals,” he groused. Harry stopped and turned.

“No!” he said quickly and Severus arched an eyebrow. Harry threw down a spoon he was holding.

“I’ve done my best, damn it!” he cried.

“Oh yes, forgetting to feed me, not thinking that maybe finding some way to exercise me would be a good idea, god knows what else! I’ve probably a thousand more bruises, scrapes and scars I haven’t even discovered yet!” Severus shouted. He was hungry. He was angry he couldn’t move by himself. He was angry he had been forgotten.

“I’ve done my best!” Harry roared again. “I’m sorry that you’ve woken up with the memory of something that happened over a year ago being the last thing you remember. But I have been dragging your sorry ass all over the damned place, hiding you from people who’d rather you be dead, and doing my best to keep you alive. Christ—I almost died bringing you back.”

Harry turned back to the food; he glanced up to the pantry and noticed an assortment of potions vials waiting for him. It was a combination of Blood-Replenishing and pain potions. He grabbed a pain potion, uncorked it, and drank it down, before finishing spooning the stew out into another bowl. He slapped the bowl on the table in front of Severus, ignoring the man’s grimace as most of the contents sloshed out.

“Do you have an addiction to pain potions?” Severus asked quietly.

“Do you have a leg that continuously detaches itself from your body?” Harry growled. Severus said nothing as he shakily lifted his spoon with his uninjured arm.

 

 

~*~

  
“Oh excuse me!” Hermione squeaked as she bumped into the man on the street. She blushed as her eyes connected with his deep blue eyes, and Ron coughed behind her.

“No no! My fault!” the man laughed, running a hand through his auburn hair. He smiled at Ron and then looked at Hermione.

“My name is Jean,” he said, sticking his hand out to her. She took it graciously, making sure that the sunlight hit the engagement ring on her finger.

“Hermione, this is my fiancé, Ron,” she said. Jean laughed and shook Ron’s hand as well.

“I never thought my sleepy hometown would turn into a tourist attraction. Are you from England as well?” he asked. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other.

“We are from England,” Ron said.

“Are there a lot of people coming here these days?” Hermione asked, smiling sweetly. Jean smiled back.

“Well there’s Henry. Last time I was in town, at least. He’s about this tall,” he said, raising his hand in the air. “Blue eyes, straight brown hair, olive skin, he’s a nice man, from England. I think he’s living around here somewhere.”

“Afraid we don’t know him, but maybe we’ll bump into him. He might be able to help us around a bit,” Hermione said.

“His French is deplorable, so don’t get your hopes up,” Jean said with a laugh. “It was lovely bumping into you. Au revoir.”

He walked off and Hermione whirled to Ron.

“It’s Harry,” she said quietly, as if Harry could show up any second. She glanced around excitedly.

“We need to go back to the grocer’s,” Ron said. “There was something about her last time.”

The two quickly set off down the street. They entered the shop. Michele turned around and smiled.

“Bonjour!” she said. Ron quickly glanced around the store and made sure it was empty before locking the door surreptitiously as Hermione smiled at the girl and approached her.

“Bonjour, I was wondering if you could help me find someone?” she asked.

“I can try,” Michele replied.

“His name is Henry, he’s from England,” she said. Michele frowned.

“I don’t know his name, but there was a man who came in yesterday who spoke English,” she said. Hermione pulled out a picture of Harry.

“Did he look like this?” she asked. Michele took the picture and stared at it.

“Yes,” she murmured. Hermione’s eyes grew wide and she turned to stare at Ron.

“Harry Potter was here,” he whispered. It was as if they had released the latch on some kind of Pandora’s box. There was a swell of magic, and Michele shrieked, grasping her head, her eyes wide.

“I…I…” She shook her head, and Hermione quickly grabbed her as she stumbled, looking for support.

“What is it? Tell us!” Hermione insisted. Michele stared at her wildly.

“Henry, that’s Henry only…not…but Henry…he never…he disappeared. I don’t…I don’t know where he went; his uncle…was sick and…and he went to Africa and came back… My head…I…I forgot about Henry. Every Thursday,” she gasped for breath, still holding her head tightly in her hand.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered with a sob. Ron moved in close.

“Do you know where Henry lives?” he asked. Michele’s brow furrowed.

“Up…up the mountain a bit, there’s a great big tree, it fans out, completely, like a sculpture,” she murmured. “Past the tree, there’s no path.”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other over the girl’s head before Ron stood up and moved to the door. Hermione pulled out her wand.

“ _Obliviate_ ,” she murmured as Ron unlocked the door. Michele blinked rapidly as Hermione stowed her wand away.

“Are you all right?” Hermione asked. Michele looked up at her.

“What…what happened?” she asked.

“You passed out,” Hermione said, smoothing the girl’s hair back. “Gave us quite the shock, are you all right?” Michele nodded.

“Oui, je suis désolée,” she murmured. Hermione helped her stand.

“Thank you again for the directions, we are terribly lost,” she said smoothly. Michele stared at her in confusion..

“Oui,” she murmured.

“Do you have someone who can come help you?” Hermione asked.

“My aunt should be back soon,” Michele said, moving behind the counter, brows furrowed. Hermione smiled.

“Au revoir,” she said. Michele nodded, not looking at them as Ron and Hermione left the shop and headed up the road out of the town and up the mountain.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus sat in the living room, fingering the odd contraption. Harry had called it a CD player, and it was what played the flat round discs that had the story of Lira on it. Severus was set on learning how to operate it as Harry went about the house, cleaning and organizing.

He had told Severus that as soon as he felt good to Apparate again, they were to go to the next safe house. When Severus questioned why, Harry explained how Hermione and Ron had been asking questions while he was in Africa.

“They’ve gotten too close, it’s time to move,” Harry muttered as he fed Severus his porridge.

“Maybe they aren’t trying to take you in?” Severus asked. Harry’s face darkened.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t exactly find myself able to trust anybody outside of myself and my house-elves, given what happened in the court room,” he said.

“Can’t even trust me?” Severus asked. Harry glared and that was the end of that discussion.

They had agreed that Severus’ recovery would wait until they had relocated. Severus figured his magic could use the time to start doing its own strengthening, though he could tell it was all mostly focused on his arms, as he was able to move around easier and hold things steadier.

He had decided that instead of lazing about in bed, he would listen to the story he had mostly ignored the day before; it would be a good escape. He sat with the discs and their player in his lap, tinkering with it curiously, when a loud crash came from his bedroom. Looking up quizzically Severus’ eyes widened as he saw miniature versions of the dresser from his and Harry’s bedroom fly into the room and land on his lap with the discs. A few other miniature bags and random things followed after as Harry hopped into the room on his crutches.

Severus had told him that his walk to town had been too much for his leg and he needed to go back on the crutches. He started to smirk smugly, but stopped when he saw the panicked look on Harry’s face.

“Shit fuck damn,” Harry cursed, coming up behind Severus and laying his crutches across the man’s lap.

“I am not—”

“Shut up,” Harry hissed, grasping the armrests next to Severus, leaning forward to hover over him. He was breathing heavily. Severus frowned.

“What—”

“Hush! They’re coming!” Harry whispered frantically. Severus’ eyes widened and he stared at the front entry.

“Are you sure it’s them?” he asked.

“I’m seriously hoping it’s pranksters from town; young kids used to trash this place before we moved in, but…young kids around here usually don’t have magical signatures,” Harry murmured. Severus tensed.

Would they be caught? Would he be given the Dementor’s Kiss again? Or would they kill him outright? And what would they do with Harry? Exploding a Dementor was one thing, but making Woodhenge come to life—literally—and bringing Severus back from the abyss? That had dark magic written all over it. Severus found himself trembling.

Outside, Ron and Hermione leaned against the front door, Hermione’s eyes wide as she stared at her fiancé.

“They’re in there,” she whispered. He nodded.

“Do you want me to go first?” he asked. Hermione sighed and shook her head.

“He knows we’re here,” she murmured.

“Why hasn’t he gone, then?” Ron asked.

Inside Severus was asking the same question.

“Harry, let’s go,” he whispered.

“No,” Harry murmured. Severus turned his head slightly to look at him. Harry looked back and swallowed hard.

In his green eyes Severus saw the Harry he knew. The one who was optimistically hopeful, the one who trusted no matter what, the Harry who just needed his friends, who had defeated an egomaniac, and still believed in even the lowliest of people.

“We can let them capture us,” Severus whispered. “We can hear them out. Maybe they want to help.” He was only speaking the words he saw in Harry’s eyes.

Harry’s heart raced and he turned his head back to the entryway, a look of horror at recognizing in own thoughts on Severus' face.

Ron pointed his wand at the door and it quietly opened.

Harry’s hands clenched at the armrests.

Hermione took a step into the hallway, brushing against Ron for encouragement.

Severus sucked in a breath.

It happened all at once. Hermione and Ron appeared in the entranceway to the living room.

Severus felt the swirl of Harry’s magic around them.

Hermione’s eyes met Severus’ and widened at seeing him so alive.

Harry’s fight or flight instinct caught up to him and after so many years of fighting, Severus couldn’t blame him for the familiar tug of Apparition.

But not before he heard Hermione scream.

“Innocent!”

Ron watched as Harry, Severus, and the chair, all disappeared. His eyes went wide as Hermione let out a growl.

“No, Harry Potter!” she cried, running forward, jumping over the couch, and landing in the spot they had just left. With a wave of her wand, she disappeared, hoping to follow Harry’s magic. Ron quickly moved forward, making sure no one left any body parts before moving to investigate the rest of house.

Hermione landed on the front porch of Grimmauld Place. She looked around before pounding wildly on the door.

“Kreacher! Kreacher! Kreacher!” she shrieked, tears running down her face.

Severus lurched. For a moment he saw the familiar hallway of Grimmauld Place before a different magic overtook them, and he found himself in an unfamiliar room. He realized immediately that Harry had had Kreacher redirect them mid-Apparition, so they couldn’t be followed. Swallowing hard, he felt Harry stand up, grab the crutches and walk away, the items in Severus’ lap lifting up and following him.

Severus took in his surroundings. It was a large open space, divided between a sitting area and a kitchen area, with small but many windows along the smooth clay-like walls. Harry turned down a hallway and Severus wheeled forward to watch him. Harry glanced into two doors at either side of hallway, directing his wand to one room, and splitting some of the things that followed him between the two rooms. When he reached the door at the end of the hallway, Severus heard him gasp. He could tell that it was obviously a bathroom, but Harry’s happy groan made him quirk an eyebrow.

“Oh thank the fates, a real shower,” Harry moaned, entering the bathroom and closing the door with a quiet snick. Severus heard the water turn on and he rolled his wheelchair back, finding a shelf low enough for him to reach to put his discs and player on.

He felt the aftereffects of the double long distance Apparitions pulling on him and he yawned, settling himself in his chair and letting his eyelids droop, Hermione’s voice ringing in his ears.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione had exhausted herself trying to get into Grimmauld. Her legs were curled underneath her body and she leaned against the door, hiccupping. The door slowly creaked open and she moved with it, staring at Kreacher’s eyes with her own bloodshot eyes.

“Why can’t you just tell him that we want to help him? That he can come home?” she asked, tears reappearing. Kreacher stretched his hand out and Hermione stood, taking his hand and letting him guide her into the home. All the doors were closed and she knew they’d be locked to her as the house-elf led her to the kitchen. He fixed her a cup of tea and handed it to her. Hermione took a sip quietly.

“Kreacher is not allowed to speak of home with Master Harry. It makes Master Harry angry, if Kreacher ever sees Master Harry. Which Kreacher hasn’t, in very long,” he murmured as if by rote. Hermione stared at him quietly. She was glad that Kreacher had rid himself of the habit of murmuring insults after everything he said. It had happened at the end of the war, when Kreacher had realized that many house-elves wanted Harry to be their Master, and Kreacher already held that honor.

“What’s wrong with Snape?” she asked.

“Kreacher thinks that if someone didn’t walk for a year, they’d have a hard time to walk,” he deflected. Hermione snorted.

“His muscles deteriorated. I’ll see if I can’t find him a potion,” she muttered, leaning forward and pressing her hands against her eyes. “And Harry? All that blood in the forest was his.”

“Kreacher does his best to keep Master Harry intact when Kreacher can,” the house-elf replied. Hermione nodded and sighed.

“I miss him, Kreacher. We miss him,” she whispered, lifting her head up, and letting her hands fold in front of her mouth. Kreacher frowned.

“Kreacher thinks…” he trailed off and twitched slightly. “Kreacher thinks that missing Master Snape would be more productive.”

With that, he snapped his fingers.

“Kreacher thinks you should go now.”

Hermione stood and followed Kreacher out of the kitchen and through the hallway. She stood on the front porch and stared at Kreacher.

“Take care of him for a little longer, won’t you?” she asked. Kreacher puffed up his chest, the fake locket of Slytherin resting there still.

“Kreacher knows his job,” he said proudly, before closing the door.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus groaned and stretched as much as he could, squeezing his eyes shut tight before slowly opening them. He saw Harry pulling on shoes on the couch next to him, his hair still damp.

“What…” he muttered, half asleep. Harry glanced up at him.

“I’m going out, finding out where we are. Going to pick up some books on the local language and get some staples from the market,” he said. Severus stared at him groggily.

“Where’s Wimbly?” he croaked, his voice hoarse with sleep. He felt drained. He needed food.

“Wimbly is taking care of other business,” Harry stated. “She can’t be here all the time.”

“I’m hungry,” Severus mumbled. Harry huffed.

“Well, you’ll have to wait ‘til I get back from market. We can’t get anything sent from Kreacher right now,” Harry snapped, tying his last shoe.

“What did Granger say?” Severus asked. Harry’s face settled stubbornly.

“She didn’t say anything,” he growled.

“Yes, she did, she said—”

“I said she didn’t say anything!” Harry shouted, standing up and glaring at Severus, who glared back.

They didn’t speak—they just stared at each, tension running high between them. Severus felt his stomach rumble, but ignored it. Finally, Harry looked away.

“I’ll be back soon,” Harry grumbled, limping towards the door.

“Where are your crutches?” Severus called after him, but Harry ignored him, going out the front door and slamming it shut. Severus sighed as he wheeled into the kitchen and looked for something, anything, to eat.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione trudged into the conference room in the Ministry. She had just noticed Ron when he looked up from a stack of books he was leaning over with Kingsley.

“Hey,” Ron greeted quietly, moving towards her quickly. She wrapped her arms around him tightly as he got near, and sucked in a shaky breath.

“Hey,” she whispered, taking in his scent and the comfort she found from being with him.

“What happened?” Ron asked, leading her into the room to sit in a chair as Kingsley made a cup of tea.

“He has Kreacher redirecting the flow midway through Apparition; that way if you’re following, you get dumped on the steps of Grimmauld,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry, love,” Ron muttered, kissing the top of her head as he sank into the seat next to her.

“Don't suppose we got anything out of Kreacher, did we?” Kingsley asked, sitting across from them and sliding the tea towards Hermione. She looked up at him.

“Actually, Severus has muscle atrophy, and whatever Harry hurt when they Apparated, Kreacher has healed to the best of his ability. Harry has banned his house-elf from saying anything to him about us, about home,” she said, taking the tea graciously.

“Muscle atrophy?” Ron asked.

“He hasn’t walked in over a year. You don’t use your muscles, you lose them, and he’s lost them,” Hermione explained. Ron whistled low and shook his head.

“That’s rough. Harry was probably hoping he’d wake him up and everything would be okay,” Ron said. Hermione nodded and motioned towards the books with a tilt of her head.

“What’s all that, then?” she asked. Ron grinned at her.

“Books, Harry’s books,” he said. Hermione looked at him curiously.

“Unfortunately most of them are in French,” Kingsley grumbled. Hermione looked at the Minister and then back at the books.

“Fortunately Harry has picked up some of the Half-Blood Prince’s old habits,” Ron added. Hermione’s eyes widened and she reached for a book, tea forgotten.

“He’s writing in the margins?” she asked, snatching up one. On the front the title, _Le baiser du corbeau_ , was fading. She traced her fingers over the words.

“Yeah, and I don’t think it’s all about what’s being talked about in the pages. What’s it say?” Ron said.

“The Kiss of the Raven, my reading is rusty though, we’ll have to call Fleur to get more information on these books,” she said, shaking her head.

“Already done,” Kingsley stated. Hermione looked up at him briefly before turning back to the book and flipping through the pages. In the margins were little scratches of ink, which made Hermione’s heart twist. Most of the scribbling was musings, about the weather, about warmer climates, about little nothings. Sometimes it was as if Harry were writing a part of a conversation that wasn’t being spoken aloud.

“Good God,” she whispered, her fingers tracing over the handwritten words as if she could touch the actual man himself through them.

“There are a lot of books with pictures of Dementors, books on Africa, travel guides, and ones on Stonehenge—not as many on Stonehenge, however,” Kingsley said.

“I bet you anything he was here for at least a week or two before the equinox, looking for more information. He wouldn’t find as much in France as he would here. Especially on little details like…tourist patterns and things,” Hermione muttered flipping through the book for more traces of Harry.

“We’ll have to go through all of them, see what writings are connected to the text, and what aren’t,” Ron said.

“Maybe he left more than just books behind,” Hermione murmured. The two men nodded. Hermione sighed and closed the book, sitting back. Her brow furrowed as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“I’m going to focus on Severus…” she said, with a slight twist to her tone so it was almost a question. Ron frowned.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Hermione seemed pensive.

“We need to find out what we can out of these books, but, Ron, you know Harry best. I’m going to go find a potion for Severus and find a way to get it to him…maybe with a note or something,” she said.

“Is that safe?” Kingsley asked. Hermione sighed and looked around the room.

“Maybe not,” she said, eyes settling on Kingsley. “But I think if we can get him to realize the truth, it’ll be a lot easier to get Harry to realize it too.”

Kingsley nodded and looked at Ron.

“All right, then, divide and conquer.”

 

 

~*~

  
Severus sat next to the kitchen table and stared at the crumbs left behind from the stale bread he had found. He wasn’t entirely sure where it had come from, but it had no mold, so he'd eaten it.

He was still hungry, though, and it had been a while since Harry left. He contemplated calling for Wimbly but wondered if the other two of the former trio were tracking the house-elves.

Hermione Granger…Severus frowned. He swore she had shouted the word _innocent_ as she'd looked at him, as if trying to relay a message. He was desperately curious as to what had happened after the trial. What the real result had been, and not from the man looking for revenge.

The front door opened and Severus looked up as Harry walked in, multiple bags in his arms. He leaned against the door to close it and looked at Severus.

“I got some oranges, and almonds, lots of almonds. Give me a second to dig them out, you can eat those while I make us something real,” he said.

“How’s your leg?” Severus asked.

“Killing me, did you find something to eat?”

“Really stale bread. Don’t drain the entire pain potion bottle, take the actual dose,” Severus replied.

“I’m a grown man, Severus,” Harry snapped, putting the bags on the counter.

“Doesn’t excuse you from getting an addiction,” Severus snapped back. Harry rustled in the bags and slapped down an orange and a bag full of almonds in front of Severus. He then walked off down the hallway. Severus picked up the orange and began to peel it, letting out a breath as he heard the crutches hopping down the hallway a few moments later.

“Did it reopen when we Apparated?” he asked, getting the last of the peel off the orange.

“A little,” Harry said, slamming down two vials in front of him. One was empty; the other contained a pain potion.

“Well, measure it out for me,” Harry growled. He went to the counter and continued sorting out the groceries. Severus uncorked the pain potion and sniffed it, glancing at the sides of the bottle. Very carefully, he measured a dose out.

“Here,” Severus said, holding out the vial with the correct dose. Harry leaned over and reached for it. He grabbed it from Severus’ hand and downed it quickly.

“I’ll need another soon if that’s a dose,” he muttered, putting the vial on the counter next to him before continuing with unloading the bags. Severus ignored the comment.

“So where are we?” Severus asked, removing a slice of orange from the rest and putting it in his mouth. The flavor exploded over his tongue.

“Sicily,” Harry replied. “Which means we are going to be eating a lot of pasta, because I don’t know how to cook fish or a number of the other weird things I saw at market.”

“There’s a volcano on this island,” Severus remarked around the orange slices.

“Is there?” Harry asked blandly, flicking his wand to start a pot of water boiling. Severus watched as Harry continued to use his wand to direct things into place.

“Is there a high Wizarding population here?” Severus asked. Harry nodded.

“There is. So we can use magic,” he replied. Severus’ fingers twitched and he looked down at them, covered in orange juice.

“You can use magic,” he muttered. Harry paused in what he was doing and glanced at Severus. Severus looked up at him.

“It’s still not quite functional yet,” Severus said with a shrug, lifting his hand up and flexing his fingers. Small sparks danced at the ends of his fingertips. Harry blinked.

“I’ve never seen that before,” he said.

“It’s a sign of magical imbalance. There are some curses that can destroy a person’s magical core, turn them into a Squib. They are incredibly complex and rarely are performed because there’s the chance of backfiring on the caster, but this with my hands is a sign of the breakdown,” Severus said. His fingers were no longer sparking, but the feeling was there.

“So are you breaking down, or are you healing?” Harry asked.

“Both, breaking down in order to heal, I imagine at least,” Severus replied. Harry hummed, turning back to the stove and counter. He continued to cook in silence as Severus ate the orange and a handful of almonds. A while later Harry placed a plate of pasta with a bare tomato sauce on top of it. Severus arched his eyebrow.

“We’re in Sicily and all you can manage is the thinnest excuse for spaghetti?” he asked, lightness in his voice to let Harry know he was teasing. Harry’s eyes sharpened before he smirked.

“Next time you can go to market, knowing that you’ve got a starving invalid at home,” he teased back. They were only a few bites into their meal when Severus looked up again.

“I have a question,” he stated.

Harry looked up at him, his eyes sharp again. “Okay,” he said cautiously.

Severus glanced down at his plate and wondered if he should save it for later. “What happened after the trial? After we escaped?” he asked.

Harry frowned.

“We landed in Grimmauld, I had Kreacher prep hiding places for us and we just…hid. There was a mansion up near Aberdeen, and then we went to somewhere in Spain,” Harry said.

Severus was shaking his head. “No, I mean in England, the press. What happened?” he asked.

Harry's face suddenly seemed stone-like. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly.

Severus stared at him. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean I didn’t ask. I refused papers. I didn’t want to see them slander us. I couldn’t…I cut them off. And now that you’re here we can get you better and…and find somewhere else to go, to hide, without ever having to worry about England,” he said.

“Granger and Weasley found you before, correct?” Severus asked.

Harry looked away. “In Spain, yes,” he said.

“And you don’t expect them to find you again?”

“You’re awake now, we’ll get you healed and then we’ll leave Europe if we have to. We’ll stop hiding in the places I’ve inherited, we’ll move to America if we have to. They won’t find us then,” Harry said.

“And if I never heal?” Severus asked.

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he put his fork down. “You will,” he stated firmly.

“I can’t even use magic right now without being drained completely. What’s to say I’ll ever be able to walk again?” Severus replied. Harry snatched his fork up and stabbed uselessly at the pasta on his plate.

“We’ll figure it out. We have time here to reorganize ourselves. We’ll be fine, we’ll…figure it out,” Harry said.

“Hermione shouted the word _innocent_ , Potter,” Severus said firmly. Harry’s jaw tensed and he glared at the plate in front of him.

“She’s trying to trick you,” Harry muttered.

“Why would the two people you spent a year with hiding from Voldemort lie to you and try to get you into Azkaban?” Severus snapped. Harry glared up at them.

“Well, they never really understood our relationship, did they? I might be safe if we go back to England, but you probably aren’t, and I’m not letting them get you! You will not go to Azkaban!” Harry snapped back.

“I’m not going to heal as fast as you like here; I don’t know the potions. You don’t know the language. It will take longer for us to find something that’ll work than it would to use the Muggle way of healing me,” Severus said.

“Then we’ll use the Muggle way!” Harry said with a huff and an eye roll. Severus’ lips tightened.

“That’s all very well and good, but I’d still like to take my chances in England at some point,” Severus said. “I want to go home.”

“It’s not home anymore!” Harry roared, jumping out of his seat. “Why can’t you just accept that? We will not ever go back there!”

“No, Potter!” Severus bit out, wheeling away from the table. The two men met in the middle of the large room, glaring at each other. Harry forced himself not to shrink away from Severus, even though the man was so much shorter than he was while in the wheelchair.

“No?” Harry hissed.

“No! _You_ will not go back to England, it’s not _your_ home anymore! I know what I heard and I will be damned if after twenty years of fighting, I will run with my tail between my legs when there might be a chance that I’m innocent!”

“And if you’re not innocent? And they kill you? Or lock you up? Or give you the Kiss again?” Harry shouted.

“Then so be it! I’ve avoided death too many times to not be comfortable with knowing when it’s time to just accept the cards fate has dealt you!”

“I will not rescue you again! I can’t!”

“Then don’t! Nobody said you had to in the first place! You could’ve mourned me, and moved on with your life!” Severus snapped, knowing that Harry Potter could never move on like that.

"I had to save you!" Harry cried.

"No, you did not! You never had to do anything! For once in your life, you had a choice in this!" Severus shouted back. Harry lifted a fist to his face and pressed it in to the bridge of his nose before tossing his hand aside.

"I did not! I never had a choice! I loved you! I had to save you! I still love you! How could I not rescue you?" he cried, eyes closed in frustration.

Severus sat back in his chair and stared at Harry. "You can't know if you still love me," Severus murmured. Harry's eyes opened wildly, bloodshot. Tears had begun to form.

"Oh we are not going back to this shit," Harry growled.

"You can't!" Severus said. "I've been out of it for a year, I don't even know who I am anymore. The things that I experienced...I don't want to be bitter and angry anymore! I've had enough of those feelings for more than five lifetimes. I want to go and enjoy my life, and if that's going to be without my legs and magic, then fine, but the idea of spending the rest of my life hiding! In fear! I can't do that!"

"We won't be in fear! We'll be together and it'll be fine!" Harry said frantically.

"I want to have drinks with Minerva again on Wednesdays, Potter. She was one of my few friends, and I was thrilled to wake up in the infirmary and have the chance to explain why I had to kill her most beloved colleague. To see the forgiveness on her face. I can't do that in America!"

"We'll find new friends!"

"I don't want new friends. I want to go home!" Severus shouted. "And how can you even know who you are anymore? You've spent a year talking to nobody except the one shopkeeper you can find to be slightly friendly once a week. That's not healthy!"

"I don't...I was trying...why are you saying these things?" Harry cried.

"Because life isn't a fairy tale, Potter! I have not woken from the dead in perfect health, you are no longer the slightly annoying yet happy and optimistic strong young man that I know. I want to take my chances going home. I will not be happy, not knowing what Hermione said, until I know the truth!" Severus shouted.

Harry swooped down on Severus and put his hands on the armrests. Their faces were inches apart. "You want the truth? You are a criminal, Severus Snape. Declared guilty by the Wizengamot. You murdered Albus Dumbledore. If you step onto English soil, you will be arrested on sight and possibly killed."

"Prove it," Severus hissed. Harry pushed back, sending Severus scrambling to grab the wheels and stop them before he moved too far back.

"Fuck you," Harry growled, limping down the hallway. Severus listened as Harry slammed his bedroom door shut before wheeling himself back to the kitchen table. He quietly finished his pasta and carefully cleaned up both his and Harry's still full plate.

Quietly he wheeled towards the bathroom, pleased to find it enhanced by magic to fit his wheelchair. There was no bathtub, but the shower had a glass door. Curious, he pulled the glass door back and sighed in relief.

He could see the signs of elf magic. Wimbly had obviously altered the bathroom so that Severus could take a shower by himself, with a chair attached to the wall. He carefully grappled with his clothing, attempting to undress himself without moving his chair around too much. He placed his clothes on top of the counter next to the sink and carefully wheeled into the shower as much as possible. Using his arms, he grunted as he lifted himself out of his wheelchair and into the chair in the shower.

He yelped as he felt himself slip, but quickly caught himself on the rail on the side of the shower. Breathing deeply, he finally settled into the chair and sat for a few moments, just relaxing.

There was a tentative knock on the door. Severus glared at it.

"Are you all right?" Harry's voice asked, muffled.

"I'm fine," Severus snapped.

"Do you need help?"

"I said I'm fine," Severus snapped again. Clutching the side of the chair with one hand, he pushed his wheelchair out of the shower. He pushed too hard and it thudded against the wall. With a frown, Severus wondered if he'd be able to reach it after his shower, but he reached for the door and attempted to close it.

“Seriously, Severus, what was that? Do you need help?” Harry asked, opening the door and peering in. He saw Severus glaring from inside the shower, and sighed, stepping in.

“I said I don’t need help,” Severus said. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Leave it for later, Severus, let me close the shower door, and then I’ll get you a towel and clean clothes, okay?” Harry said. “Besides, what are you going to do after your shower when the floor is slippery and you can’t reach your chair?”

“I’m resourceful,” Severus said, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands over his groin. Harry stared at him, leaning lightly against the shower door.

“Severus, I—"

“I’m cold,” Severus interrupted, glaring at Harry.

Harry’s face clouded over and he scoffed, looking away. “Yeah, fine,” he muttered, closing the shower door. Severus leaned forward and turned the water on, grimacing at the initial blast of cold before sighing as it warmed up.

A while later Severus sat in bed, hair damp, but otherwise dry and warm. He had allowed Harry to help him redress and get in his chair, but insisted on being left alone to get to his room and into his own bed. He sat propped up against the headboard, sheets pushed off him, carefully using his arms to move his legs around, testing to see what they could do on their own and what he needed to push them to do.

With a sigh, he stopped, letting his head fall back against the headboard as he looked around the sparse room. He wondered if Harry would continue to help him heal, knowing that Severus was intent on finding some kind of proof about what had happened in England. He sighed again, looking at the closed door to his room, imagining he could see across the hall to Harry.

“Why are you so afraid?” he whispered.

Across the hall, Harry sat up against his headboard, wrapped in his bed sheets, the heavier fleece blanket kicked to the end of the bed. His face twisted into a scowl, before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A storm of emotions ran through him: anger, loneliness, and desperation.

In his mind Hermione’s voice repeated _innocent_ over and over.

Severus was right, of course, Severus was right. There was no reason to think that Ron and Hermione of all people would lie about their being innocent. Hermione had practically battered the door down at Grimmauld after the trial.

But it didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. Even if Severus had been declared innocent later—would the public really see him that way? What if someone was waiting for Ron and Hermione to succeed in finding them just so they could sweep in and grab Severus away from Harry? And what about what Harry had done? He'd exploded a Dementor in front of a courtroom full of people and then brought a man back to life. Someone had to have noticed by that point that the Elder Wand was still in play. Even if they didn’t—how often had Harry already been accused of being a Dark Wizard? If avoiding the suspicious glances meant staying away from England, Harry would do it. He was tired of the public’s ever-watchful gaze. They would always ask if he was a Dark Wizard, or what he was doing to make the Wizarding world a better place. They’d always have horrifyingly crushing expectations of him. He’d never be able to live in peace. His every move would be judged.

They’d attack Severus if it meant getting Harry to do what they wanted. They’d attack Harry and his friends. Rita Skeeter would dog his every move and if her vicious words didn’t seem to encourage Harry to move as the public wanted, someone would be unstable enough to take action against him and his loved ones. He was sure of it. No, even with the images of Ron, Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys, Neville, and a host of other friends floating through his mind’s eye, Harry knew that it was safer away from them. Away from England. Away from the impossible expectations that had been placed on him before he could even walk properly.

Still, Harry’s heart ached.

Soundlessly and carefully, his lips formed the words Severus had said earlier; _I want to go home._

Squeezing his eyes shut tighter, Harry slipped down the bed and let his head fall on the pillows, a few tears escaping before he took another deep breath.

 

 

~*~

  
 _There were no words spoken, just the gentle push. Before he could stop it, Harry found himself swimming in a sea of memories…_

 _Harry, five years old, curled against the walls in the furthest corner from the door in his cupboard, desperately clutching the small, broken little knight figurine he had found as Uncle Vernon shouted from the other side of the hallway. Shaking as he tried to understand why it was his fault, what was wrong with him, closing his eyes and desperately wishing himself away…Harry, eleven years old, creating a fort of pillows and blankets and broken toys around himself to attempt to feel more comfortable in the large bed, in the large room, wishing desperately that he had a letter and was safe in his cupboard…Harry almost twelve, curled again in a fort, wishing for the hangings of his bed at Hogwarts…Harry, age fifteen, head under a pillow as he thought of Sirius, poor Sirius, and the home he never had…Harry, age sixteen, sitting in the common room and longing for a different sofa…_

 _“Stop!” Harry said, pushing Severus out of his head. Severus frowned._

 _“You haven’t let me get that far in a very long time,” he remarked. Harry turned away and ran a shaky hand through his hair, ruffling the back crazily as he breathed out._

 _“Yeah,” he muttered. Severus frowned deeper._

 _“To the Bat cave,” he joked, motioning Harry to follow him through the door and short hallway that led to the man’s quarters. Harry grinned weakly and followed._

 _“Sit,” Severus said, pointing at the sofa that Harry had longed for in the last memory. Harry curled up, pulling the fleece blanket Severus had draped over the back around him. Severus sat down next to him a few moments later and handed him a cup of tea. Harry took it, smiling slightly stronger._

 _“Speak,” Severus instructed. Harry rolled his eyes._

 _“I just…rough day,” he muttered._

 _“Yes, well, we’ll tell the Dark Lord not to try to read your mind on a bad day,” Severus snarked. Harry elbowed him lightly._

 _“I’m allowed one slip-up in four months,” Harry groused, taking a sip of tea._

 _“Well then, hopefully the Dark Lord will attack in the next two, so we can make sure you’re at your most focused,” Severus replied. “What’s wrong?”_

 _“I just…let’s pretend I survive all of this, for a moment,” Harry said._

 _“You plan on dying?” Severus asked, an odd note in his voice. Harry shrugged._

 _“Have to take in all the possibilities, don’t I? You’re right, I get by on an awful amount of sheer dumb luck, and he…” Harry paused and took a sip of his tea, thinking. Severus said nothing, just stared at him. “He’s older than me, more experienced. I might be strong, I might even be stronger than he is—but I don’t…I don’t necessarily know how to use that strength, and he’s got decades on me.”_

 _“But we’re pretending that you survive,” Severus reminded him._

 _Harry sighed and nodded. “What happens next?” he asked._

 _Severus frowned. “What do you mean?”_

 _“I mean, what do you do, when you’re…say I’m twenty when I defeat him, I’ll have a hundred years ahead of me…what do you do after you’ve defeated a Dark Lord?”_

 _“Whatever the hell you want, I imagine,” Severus stated. Harry rolled his eyes and looked up at Severus, expecting to see a face of sarcasm, and surprised to see the seriousness on Severus’ face. The smile that had started to form on Harry’s face disappeared, replaced by bemusement._

 _“What?”_

 _“What if you don’t finish your education? Or what if you do? Hogwarts isn’t the end, you can go continue your education somewhere, become an apprentice, learn a new trade, go into the Aurors—"_

 _“No, I’ll…I’m done after this one, I’ve decided,” Harry interrupted. “No more Dark Wizard hunting.”_

 _“Then take time for you. Live your life and determine who you are, find something that makes you happy, find your home,” Severus said._

 _“Hogwarts is my home,” Harry said quietly._

 _“The Headmaster calls us the lost boys,” Severus said suddenly, looking into the fire. Harry frowned._

 _“I’m sorry?”_

 _“You, myself, Tom Riddle, he calls us the Lost Boys of Hogwarts,” Severus said. Harry laughed, reaching forward to place his tea on an end table._

 _“That’s rich, why’s that?”_

 _“Well, think about it. None of us had the most ideal of childhoods. The Dark Lord is obsessed with this place, and I’ve never actually left,” Severus said, looking at Harry. “We’ve never known a home outside of these walls.”_

 _Harry frowned. “The three of us are really pathetic, aren’t we?” he asked._

 _Severus chuckled. “Yes, well, you can break the chain. Home is where the heart is. Leave, travel, learn, love, do things, let your heart know the world outside of Hogwarts, you don’t have to be tied down to it,” Severus said, looking back at Harry, who was staring back up at him intensely._

 _“What if my heart is still at Hogwarts?” Harry breathed, leaning forward slightly more. Severus found himself lost in the bright green eyes in front of him._

 _“Then Hogwarts will always be here for you,” he replied. Harry sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, before darting forward and kissing Severus._

 

 

~*~

  
Severus fiddled with the disc and the player, finally getting it to start. He smiled at his triumph over foreign Muggle technology, listening to the introduction as Harry exited the bathroom and walked down the hallway into the main room, towel-drying his hair.

“Do we have to listen to this same story again?” Harry grumbled.

“I haven’t heard all of it,” Severus said, wheeling back away from the shelf and heading to the kitchen counter.

“Yes you have, Severus, you’ve listened to it a million—" Harry stopped in the middle of his tirade and looked at Severus who was glaring at him.

"…times," he finished before sighing. “I’m sorry, Severus, I…I just—"

“Forget it, Potter,” Severus snapped at him, reaching for an orange. “Are you going out again today?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “I didn’t pick up any dictionaries last trip, need to get a handle on the language. Do you have a preference for breakfast?”

“Not really,” Severus said, wheeling himself to the table so he could begin to peel his orange. Harry huffed and moved to the kitchen.

 

 

~*~

  
“Muscle atrophy?” Madam Pomfrey asked incredulously.

“Well, what if the patient has been basically in a coma for the last year?” Hermione replied. They were sitting in the office to the empty infirmary at Hogwarts. It was a peaceful day, for which Hermione was glad. She hadn’t been looking forward to having this conversation about broken bones, doses of Pepper-Up and other various maladies.

“Yes, but there are several spells and potions you can use on a patient while they are in a coma that would make it so that any muscle atrophy incurred would be minimal at worst,” the nurse said with a frown. Hermione smiled sadly.

“Harry wouldn’t know that,” she said. Understanding flashed across Madam Pomfrey’s face.

“I was worried you were talking about your parents, dear girl. I was going to ask what had happened in Australia,” she said with a tiny laugh. Hermione grinned.

“Mum and Dad are home, thankfully, well, for the time being at least. I’m afraid I instilled a bit of wanderlust in them. I don’t think I quite want to cure them of it, though,” she said. Madam Pomfrey laughed before sobering.

“So Severus Snape has returned to us, then?” she asked quietly. Hermione nodded carefully and Pomfrey let out a sigh of relief.

“To think I’ve known that boy since he was eleven years old. I brought him back from the dead on more than one occasion, and then to have him lost to a Dementor by a maniac for nothing other than revenge…it broke my heart,” she said. “But you’re not here for sad stories!”

“No, ma’am,” Hermione said with a smile as the nurse pushed herself away from her desk and went to a large file cabinet next to her desk. She tapped the first drawer with her wand.

“Muscle atrophy,” Madam Pomfrey said. A small tab turned red as she moved down to the third drawer and tapped it as well with her wand.

“Severus Snape,” she said. Another small tab turned red as the first turned green. She opened the drawer and pulled out one file, before the other tab turned green. From that drawer she pulled another file and placed them both on her desk. Sitting down, the nurse pulled out a pair of glasses, putting them on before flipping through the files, her wand scanning as fast as her eyes as she hummed and murmured to herself. Hermione felt herself twitch and lean forward slightly, hoping to catch a glance. Madam Pomfrey snapped the files shut quickly and pulled a piece of parchment out of a drawer from her desk, writing a few things down.

“There are two standard potions that are used in the United Kingdom for muscle atrophy, and I don’t see Severus using foreign potions until he’s been given a chance to prove they are good ones. Unfortunately you’ll have to find a way to deliver the more complicated one, as the easier potion has a combination of ingredients that have caused allergic reactions in Severus in a different potion,” she said. Hermione frowned.

“How is it more complicated?” she asked. Madam Pomfrey looked at her.

“You’ll have to find a way to send the ingredients and not the potion itself. It doesn’t travel well by magical means, and must be consumed within an hour of the salamander blood being added—although if you can find Re’em blood, that’s even more powerful and makes the potion work faster, but it’s a pain to locate, and even worse to purchase,” the nurse said, handing Hermione the parchment with notes scribbled on it. Hermione took the parchment and glanced at it before looking back at the nurse.

“Thank you, this…this means a lot,” she said.

Madam Pomfrey nodded. “Of course, dear, and you give Severus my greetings if you see him, won’t you?” she asked.

Hermione smiled. “Of course.”

 

 

~*~

  
Harry wasn’t gone more than five minutes when Wimbly appeared.

"Wimbly is here to help Masters Snape and Harry!" she said excitedly, appearing in the center of the room. Severus looked over at her from the window he had been staring out of, and smiled.

"Hello, Wimbly," he greeted her. She turned and smiled brightly at him.

"Hello, Master Snape! Where is Master Harry?" she asked.

"He's out in the village, trying to get a grasp on the language, I believe," Severus said.

Wimbly frowned. "Has Master Snape eaten today?" she asked carefully.

Severus snorted and looked back out the window. "He didn't forget breakfast before leaving," he said.

Wimbly's ear twitched. "Wimbly is going to make a list for Kreacher of foods needing to be sent. Is Master Snape wanting anything particular?" she asked.

"Not really, I'll make do with anything," Severus replied. Wimbly nodded and went silent, bustling around the kitchen drawers, picking through the purchases Harry had made the day before.

Severus stared out the window again, watching the semi-busy street below. He heard the shouts and calls, Italian and Sicilian intermingling with each other. In his head he rehashed the arguments that he had been having with Harry over the past few days.

There was a large possibility that Harry was right, that Granger (could it be Weasley now?) was trying to trick them, or trap them. Severus didn't actually know how Harry's friends had felt about their slowly blossoming relationship before the trial, but he was no fool. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, the two arms of the Golden Trio, would stop at nothing to make sure Harry was safe and happy, no matter what he decided to do with his life. Being on the run with a comatose Severus Snape was not a very safe and happy existence. Beyond that, there was always the possibility that Hermione and Ron were being used by another person to find Harry. Anybody who could destroy a Dementor was somebody to watch carefully. The concerned duo could be funded by a powerful and equally concerned person who wanted Harry locked away or under careful supervision. A person like that would definitely see no good in keeping Severus, a man known for dabbling in the Dark Arts, near the Boy-Who-Lived.

If only he could just get access to at least one newspaper from home, one _Daily Prophet_...

Severus' head snapped up, and he watched intently as Wimbly counted oranges. His eyes narrowed as he made a quick decision.

"Wimbly?" he asked quietly, kindly. Her ears twitched and she looked over at Severus.

"Is Master Snape needing something?" Wimbly asked.

"I need a newspaper. A newspaper from England," Severus said carefully.

Wimbly's ears drooped. "Wimbly doesn't think--"

Severus stopped her with a wave of his hand.

"What are your instructions regarding the _Daily Prophet_ , Wimbly?" he asked.

Wimbly sighed. "Master Harry told Kreacher that Kreacher was not to bring any newspapers to Master Harry from home. Master Harry said that it was all rubbish, and not worth reading," she said nervously.

Severus smirked.

"I'm not Master Harry. I'm Master Snape. And I'm asking that I get a _Daily Prophet_ , from after my trial, but before today, with news about Master Harry and me. And I want it hidden somewhere where only I can find it, and Master Harry cannot," he said. Wimbly's ears twitched. She turned fully and jumped off the counter, going to Severus. She stood in front of him and squared herself.

"Master Snape is trying to manipulate Wimbly," she said. Severus was taken aback. He had never met such a straightforward house-elf.

"No, I don't think so. I think I am trying to manipulate Harry, and I might be using you to help me," he said in response. Wimbly narrowed her eyes, but her mouth curved into a smile.

"Master Snape wants to take Master Harry home," she said. Severus swallowed and shrugged.

"If it is safe, then yes, I want to go home, and I want to go home with Harry," he said. Wimbly smiled brightly.

"Wimbly will probably have to punish herself, but Wimbly thinks it won't have to be a bad punishment," she said before disappearing.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry sat on the park bench, letting the sounds flow around him. He buried his head in the dictionary in front of him and quietly mouthed a few words.

He didn't want to go back to the flat. He saw no reason. Severus would only want him to help him heal, and if Harry had to help him heal, knowing that Severus was just going to run off the second that he was better to England...

He didn't want to think about it.

He looked up at a child running past him with a loud shriek and a laugh, before sighing and looking back down at the dictionary.

"Ciao..." he murmured. "Il mio nome è...."

Harry bit his lip and thought for a moment. He hadn't changed his name in Spain, but he had a feeling that Ron and Hermione had gotten to Michele, which meant they knew he was going by Henry in France.

"Ciao," he said again. "Il mio nome è James."

 

 

~*~

  
Severus hadn’t expected Wimbly to disappear so fast, or return just as fast. She held a single newspaper in her arms.

“Wimbly put the others hidden in Master’s Snape bottom dresser drawer,” she whispered, carefully laying the paper out on Severus’ lap. He gasped and closed his eyes quickly before opening them again. His fingers traced his name in bold letters at the top of the page.

“Innocent,” he murmured.

“Master Harry left England a week after that was published; he refused to look at it,” she whispered quietly.

Severus stared at the front-page picture of him and Harry entering the courtroom. His eyes trailed down to the text.

 _“Obviously this news is welcomed, but bittersweet. The damage has been done, and we fear that more acts of this kind of revenge will continue,” Granger said in a statement on Tuesday. “We beg the public to keep their eyes open and if they see any sign of Harry Potter, or Severus Snape, to let the Ministry know immediately. We would like to have both of them home, and work with the Department of Mysteries to find a way to restore Professor Snape’s soul to him.  
_

Severus sighed heavily and looked out the window again. A million thoughts raced through his mind.

Finally, he stopped on one thought.

"Wimbly," he said. The house-elf had gone back to her chore of going through the groceries Harry had bought. She looked up, ear twitching.

"Master Snape?" she asked carefully. He looked away from the window and back at her.

"I need clothes, other than these pajamas," he said, motioning down to the blue and white striped pajamas he was wearing. "I need clothes that I can move in, and exercise in, and feel...normal in."

"Wimbly can get Master Snape's clothes easy," she said.

"I also need your help in another matter. I need to start exercising my legs. I have to get better, Wimbly, even if I have to use the Muggle way to get better. I'll need your help with the exercises," he said.

Wimbly smiled and nodded, ears twitching. "Wimbly will be happy to help Master Snape when she is here."

Severus frowned. "You won't always be here?" he asked.

"Wimbly is being here as often as possible, but Wimbly has to help Kreacher pick the next safe house and clean it up, and Wimbly is also helping Kreacher keep Grimmauld Place clean and tidy, should Master Harry ever return, and another home in England for Master Harry to return to, if he wants," she said.

Severus smirked wryly. "Are the two of you doing that on Harry's orders?" he asked.

Wimbly's eyes danced with mischief.

"Master Harry told Kreacher to be aware of and prepare for all contingencies," Wimbly said. "Kreacher and Wimbly are just following Master Harry's orders. Especially with Master Snape awake now."

 

 

~*~

  
Harry turned the corner and started to head down the alley where the stairs for the flat were located.

“Ehi tu! Ragazzo! Dove stai andando?” someone shouted from the street. Harry frowned and glanced over. An older woman was staring at him intently. Harry froze. Muggles shouldn't be able to see him going towards their new home. It was protected: to anyone who didn't know any better, the building it was shoved on top of looked like it was about to collapse. Harry had imagined that at one point the Black family had operated a shopfront in the lower level while living in the top level, but the building had been abandoned for years.

"Excuse me?" he asked carefully, pulling out his dictionary. The woman's blue eyes widened as she walked towards Harry. He felt his fingers twitch, groping for his wand hidden in his waistband.

“Non parli italiano, bambino? Non avrei mai pensato che avreivisto il giorno che un Black non poteva parlare italiano,” she continued to speak. Harry caught the name of the Black family.

"Oh! Oh! Wait..." He flipped through his dictionary. "Inheritance…uh..Eredità! and um...Famiglia um...Famiglia de Black?"

“Ereditato dalla famigila Black? Forse potresti pulirlo e poi venderlo,” the woman said, before flipping her long white hair over her shoulder and sticking her hand out. “Può chiamarmi Signora Esposito.”

"Il mio nome è James," Harry said carefully, before shaking her hand. Despite looking essentially like a very old, very fragile woman, she had a strong grip, and an even stronger gleam in her eye. She took her hand back and pointed at Harry.

“Tu, abiti lì,” she said, gesturing to where Harry's flat was, before pointing to herself and then to the shop down the road. “Io, abito lì.”

Harry frowned. "That shop? You and that shop?" he asked, waving a hand at the woman and the shop. She nodded.

“Io la guarderò. Alphard era sempre un creatore di guai, e suo nipote non era migliore. Vieni a trovarmi se hai bisogno di aiuto,” she said with a commanding tone. Harry waved stupidly and watched as the woman walked away.

"I have no idea what she just said," Harry muttered to himself, before turning and heading up the stairs. His mind was still reeling from the strange encounter when he walked into the flat.

Harry stopped and blinked. Severus was lying on a mat on the floor, wearing long black trousers and a black t-shirt. Wimbly was holding his left leg, bent at the knee, up on her shoulder, and the man's palms were pressed firmly into his eyes.

"Master Snape is almost done, sir! Wimbly knows Master Snape can do it!" the house-elf said encouragingly as Severus groaned.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked. Severus lifted his hands from his eyes and glared at Harry as Wimbly squeaked.

“Attempting to regain use of my legs,” Severus ground out.

“Down now, Master Snape,” Wimbly said quietly, carefully helping him lower his leg.

Irrational anger gripped Harry. He stalked forward, tossing the dictionary he had held in his hand onto the sofa.

“Here, let me help,” Harry said. Wimbly looked at him skeptically but moved out of the way.

“I think I’m done for the day, Potter,” Severus said, watching him move carefully.

“Nonsense,” Harry said, kneeling down. He grabbed Severus leg roughly.

“Damn it—Potter, unhand me this instant, I said I’m done!” Severus barked as Harry moved his leg up.

“I just want to see what you can do,” Harry barked back. Severus shouted as Harry pushed his leg a little too fast.

“Let go of me!” he shouted, throwing his hands forward as if to push Harry off him. There was a flash of light, and Harry felt himself tossed back, hitting the wall. He yelped at the impact and looked up to see Severus clutch at his arms and thrash around as if in a seizure. Sparks of all colors were flying off his skin. Harry quickly moved forward.

“What the—”

“No! Master Harry must stay back!” Wimbly shrieked, grabbing his leg and holding on tightly. Harry looked down at the house-elf.

“What is happening?” he asked, panicked.

“Master Snape’s magic is collapsing and becoming part of Master Snape. Master Harry already hurt him, Master Harry must leave him alone!” she shrieked. Severus gasped for air, going rigid before finally sighing and relaxing.

Harry felt himself shaking.

“He will wake up, won’t he?” he asked. Wimbly nodded, flexing her fingers against Harry’s legs. A soft dark blue glow settled around Severus.

“What is that?” Harry asked.

“Master Snape’s magic, it’s going back into him,” Wimbly murmured in reply. “Master Harry cannot touch Master Snape. Master Harry must let the magic do its job.”

Harry swallowed as he felt Wimbly let go of him. She headed toward the kitchen. Harry stared at Severus for a little while before turning around and looking for her.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he said. Wimbly pulled out several ingredients from the cabinets.

“Wimbly knows,” she said.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked.

“Master Snape is going to be very hungry when he wakes up. Master Harry better help Wimbly cook,” she explained, looking back at him with a stern expression. Harry quickly moved to help her.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lengths to which a man will go to save the soul of the one he loves.

** Equinox, Part Two **

 

 

 

 

 

Hermione tied the bow tightly around the neck of the bottle, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she did so. She felt Ron come up behind her before she heard him. He rested a hand on her shoulder.

“How’s it going?” he asked, exhaustion obvious in his voice.

“I think this is going to work. I just have to find a way to convince Kreacher there’s nothing wrong with the box itself,” she muttered, carefully placing the bottle into a plain box. It rested next to several smaller boxes, each containing essential ingredients.

“And what’s wrong with the box?” Ron asked, curious.

“False bottom, with a fake galleon to communicate with,” Hermione replied. Ron chuckled and pulled up the other chair to sit next to her. They were at home, in their kitchen. It was the first time in a long time Ron had been home.

“That sounds awfully familiar, Hermione,” he teased. She spared him a smirk as she double-checked the ingredients within the box.

“If it’s not broken, don’t fix it,” she recited. Ron chuckled again and leaned over to press a kiss on her temple.

“Are you done at the Ministry?” she asked. Ron nodded and pulled away, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah. We went through each book. He’s somewhere warmer, I think. He wrote several things that point to either Greece or Italy—probably Southern Italy,” Ron said with a shrug.

“Narrows it down a lot,” Hermione said, checking the false bottom and revealing the coin.

“Yeah, but for how much longer? With Severus awake, Harry could easily be preparing to leave Europe altogether. Secure some Muggle visas, run off to the States, or Canada, or Australia,” he said.

“Are we purposely sticking to English-speaking countries in that list?” Hermione asked, bemused.

“He complained a lot about the trouble of learning new languages several times,” Ron said. “And there are traces of translation spells all over the books.”

“Snape might know a different language,” Hermione said, closing the box up tight before turning to face her husband.

“Possibly, but Harry knows it’ll be harder to find him if he’s not in Europe.”

“True. But we’ll find him. We have a while yet. They aren’t going to get far if Severus can’t walk,” Hermione said.

Ron frowned and quirked an eyebrow. “So you’re going to give them the stuff to make Snape walk?” he asked, gesturing to the box.

“And the items to let Snape know that he’s innocent, and welcome, and we’re open to communication,” Hermione reasoned.

“Or the items to set Harry off and speed their moving timetable up,” Ron countered.

“Won’t know till we try,” Hermione said.

Ron smiled lightly. “Do you think he heard you when you shouted at him?” he asked.

Hermione took in a breath before sighing heavily. “Something tells me he did…I really hope he did. Harry’s been ignoring us, but for all Snape knows…he has no reason not to be curious about what happened after the trial,” she said.

“But how is he going to find out?” Ron asked. “I mean, outside of your box, which could be a clever ruse to drag him and Harry back to England to destroy him again, and lock Harry up, or something equally ridiculous.”

“There was a stack of newspapers right inside the door of Grimmauld. I didn’t really think much of it when I was there last. I’m surprised I remember them at all, but I bet you anything they were all newspapers with news of Harry and Snape. Snape is a Slytherin; he’ll find a way to trick Kreacher into getting them to him, even if Harry refuses them,” Hermione said.

“I trust you. Let’s go out for dinner tonight, a nice date night. We can get the box to Kreacher in the morning,” he said, standing up and offering his hand to Hermione. Hermione nodded and grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull her up. She wrapped her arms around Ron as soon as she was standing.

“I love you, Ronald Weasley,” she murmured. Ron smiled and tightened his arms around her.

“I love you too.”

 

 

~*~

  
Harry was falling asleep at the table, his palms pressed into his eyes as Wimbly hummed and checked on the oven again.

“The lasagna is done,” Harry muttered, not moving from his position at the table.

“Wimbly is keeping it fresh and warm,” she replied. Harry yawned loudly.

“How much longer do you think he’s going to be out?” he murmured.

“Wimbly doesn’t know,” she replied patiently. Harry looked up and stared at Severus, still surrounded by the dark blue glow.

“Is all magic blue?” he asked, suddenly curious.

“All of Master Snape’s magic is that color, but Master Harry’s magic is a different color,” Wimbly replied.

“Spells are different colors, though,” Harry said, looking over at the elf. Wimbly’s ears twitched and she smiled.

“Master Harry is confusing spells with magic,” she said, before moving over to the table. She jumped up on the chair next to Harry. “Master Harry should cast a spell for Wimbly, one that lasts long, like light.”

Confused, Harry pulled out his wand and twirled it in his fingers, thinking.

“ _Lumos_ ,” he murmured. The tip of his wand lit up. Wimbly smiled and reached out with one long, knobby finger. She traced the edge of the light.

“Does Master Harry see the circle around the light?” she asked. Harry squinted.

“Er…”

“Master Harry has to look just a little past the spell, like a fuzzy photograph,” she said. Harry hummed and squinted more, looking at the edge of the bright light.

“There’s an orange circle around the light,” he said.

Wimbly nodded. “Orange is Master Harry’s magic,” Wimbly said.

Harry flicked his wand and cancelled the spell. “I didn’t realize magic had colors,” he said.

Wimbly grinned and went back to the kitchen counter.

“Wimbly is thinking that the professors at Hogwarts forget to teach the real basics of magic. All house-elves see magic. Wizards usually only see spells,” she stated, conjuring a cloth to wipe down the counter. Harry, knowing what to look for, smiled at the zip of purple he saw for a brief second. He smirked as he looked back at Severus.

“I wonder what Voldemort’s magic looked like,” he muttered.

Wimbly’s ears twitched violently. “Wimbly hears tales that the Dark Lord’s magic was no color. Just sparks of random colors, like his magic was broken and wild,” she murmured.

Harry’s eyes darkened. “That would make sense,” he said. They went silent for a few moments.

“Is magic like the same thing as your what’s-it…aura?” Harry asked, looking at Wimbly. “You know, with the color?”

“Wimbly doesn’t know,” the house-elf replied. “Wimbly thinks so.”

Harry hummed and went back to staring at Severus. His mind turned over everything and nothing as his eyelids grew heavy. He yawned again and rested his head in one hand, letting his eyes slip shut.

 

 

~*~

  
When Severus woke up, it was with a loud groan, as he attempted to sit up quickly. Harry snapped awake, stumbling over the chair as he rushed to Severus’ side, Wimbly right next to him.

Severus lurched forward before falling back to the floor, panting heavily.

“My wand, Wimbly, my wand,” he gasped out. Wimbly quickly moved to the wheelchair.

“Severus, are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Harry asked, staring with wide eyes as Severus grasped his wand. Severus looked at him before twitching his wrist.

“ _Accio_ wheelchair,” he murmured. The wheelchair slowly rolled towards Severus, stopping right next to him, with its wheels locking. Severus grinned as Wimbly clapped excitedly.

“Master Snape has magic again!” she cried excitedly. Severus carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position with his arms, wand grasped tightly in his hand. Harry moved forward.

“Here, let me help,” he said, gently grasping Severus’ arm. Severus stilled and glared at Harry, who met his eyes and swallowed.

“I’m sorry I hurt you earlier…I didn’t mean to,” Harry murmured.

“See that it doesn’t happen again,” Severus said quietly before allowing Harry to help him up into the chair. “I am starving!”

“Wimbly made lasagna for Master Snape!” the house-elf said excitedly, waving Severus forward.

“That sounds delicious,” Severus said as he tapped the wheels with his wand and let the chair roll forward.

“Wimbly thinks Master Snape shouldn’t use magic for pushing his wheels. It will strengthen Master Snape’s arms!” Wimbly admonished. Harry shuffled behind Severus, slipping into his seat that he had occupied earlier at the table.

“It’s just for now, Wimbly,” Severus said, stopping at the table. Wimbly opened up the oven and promptly began to dish out the lasagna.

“Does Master Harry want some too?” Wimbly asked. Harry nodded.

“Sure, Wimbly,” he said. He watched as Severus made the salt and pepper shakers dance, much to Wimbly’s delight. The utensils flew from the drawer and to the table. As Wimbly set the plates down, Harry’s fork tangoed with Severus’, as their knives fought to the apparent death.

With Severus’ magic restored, it would only be a matter of time before the man disappeared entirely. A year of Harry’s life, wasted.

He remembered the conversations that had followed shortly after he’d told Severus he was attracted to him. The man had avoided the conversation, and had often avoided Harry.

 _“Your infatuation will pass, and you will go sow your wild oats elsewhere Mr. Potter.”_

How often had Severus said that? Even after he had stopped saying it, he was always reserved. He seemed to be attracted to Harry, yes, and maybe even cared for Harry, but suddenly Harry wondered if Severus had ever cared as much as Harry did for Severus.

Perhaps it wasn’t the fact that Harry was going to die that kept Severus so far removed from Harry, as he had expected, but the fact that that he didn’t actually love Harry.

Severus had never actually expressed outright anything other than a passing fancy with Harry. He'd known Harry was supposed to die. How could either one of them have guessed that they both were going to survive?

And now that they were both alive and shoved together…

Severus wouldn’t want to stay with Harry for long. He couldn’t possibly want to. He’d run off as soon as he could and find someone else to be with. And if he got caught by the Ministry and fed to the Dementors again: Harry didn’t know if he could be there to save him. Not again. Not knowing how difficult it would be, not knowing that the two of them didn’t have a future together…His actions the first time had been reflexive, but what would he do, knowing what he did now, were it to happen again? Harry wasn’t certain.

And Harry would be left alone, hiding from the world that would do nothing but judge him. He’d have to find away to get over the heartbreak inflicted by the one person in the world he thought he could trust and love with his very being.

Harry snatched his fork away from Severus’ and stabbed halfheartedly at his lasagna. Severus’ fork continued to dance without its partner for a few more moments before all the utensils quietly glided back to their places. Severus quickly began working on devouring his lasagna, humming in appreciation as Wimbly placed a salad next to his plate. Harry pushed the lasagna with his fork, taking only a few bites, lost in his thoughts. The two of them didn’t speak until Severus’ plate was clear.

“Does Master Snape want some more?” Wimbly asked.

“Let it settle first, I may just want another small salad. But let me think about it,” Severus said. Wimbly nodded enthusiastically. Severus stretched his arms up with a sigh, glancing at Harry.

“Are you going to eat it, or are you going to push it around and hope it disappears?”

“I guess I’m just not that hungry,” Harry mumbled. Severus sighed and leaned forward, picking his wand up from his lap and twirling it in his fingers. The peppershaker bowed to the salt and they began waltzing.

“Haven’t you had enough foolish wand waving?” Harry snapped, watching the saltshaker twirl. Severus had both the salt and the pepper stop, and he stared at Harry.

“I’m not running off to England tomorrow,” Severus said quietly.

Harry snorted and pushed back from the table. “Well, of course you’re not, your legs don’t work yet,” he snapped. “Of course that’s only a matter of time too.” He stood up and grabbed his plate, going over to the bin.

“I’m not going to England at all, Harry, not without you being okay with it, and not without you by my side,” Severus said. Something in his voice made Harry pause before he binned the lasagna.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Harry growled. Wimbly watched in fascination, frowning at Severus trying to understand his words.

“I won’t. I want to be with you, Harry. You’ve saved my life, and I’m very grateful for that. I do want to go home, I want to see Minerva, and Filius, and even the Malfoy family. I want to at least find out if I was ever exonerated, or if I remain a criminal but…” Severus paused, and Harry turned around, plate in hand, lasagna threatening to slide off the plate and smack the floor.

“But…?” Harry said quietly. Severus looked at the wall in front of him, raising the shields in his mind carefully, and reminding himself that he was a Slytherin before backing away from the table and turning to face Harry behind him.

“But I got overexcited by being awake again. You know more about what’s going on than I do, at present. For now, we stay here, safe, together, in Sicily. We’ll figure out the rest later. But no matter what happens, I’m staying with you,” he said.

“Why?” Harry asked, his heart thrumming quietly. Severus shrugged.

“Probably because you’re incredibly unbalanced right now, and I’m worried you’ll do something reckless and Gryffindor-like if I don’t stay, but also because…” Severus paused again and stared at Harry. “I always thought, after the trial, if I were declared innocent, I would find a nice place to live. Nothing too grand, just enough for me, and maybe some brewing. And I’d find a job that I could tolerate that would pay the bills, and I’d let you ride out your fancy, and then let you leave when you realized how much you were missing, being tied down to someone as old and broken as I am.”

“You are not old and broken,” Harry said quickly.

Severus raised a hand to stop him. “Neither are you,” he said, a stern look in his eye as his hand dropped.

Harry gasped and looked down at the plate, quickly grabbing it with his other hand and evening it out as he realized the lasagna was about to fall.

“You stayed…you more than stayed. I’ll stay as well. And I will just hope that we are both staying for the same reason,” Severus said quietly.

Harry looked up at him. “I lov—”

“Don’t,” Severus said, his hand coming back up. “I will heal, and we will set up some kind of…normal, here, in Sicily. Some kind of idea of a life, not holed up with each other just for company and nothing to do.”

“And England?” Harry asked, nervousness in his voice. Severus shrugged glancing at the nails on his fingers.

“We’ll get there eventually. Maybe once we’ve determined to leave for America or Australia or Brazil, we’ll stop by, hit up Gringotts, empty our vaults, steal their dragon, go to the Ministry, and find out if we’re innocent. If we’re not, we’ll leave in style, riding off on our stolen dragon,” Severus said looking up at Harry with a smirk. Harry grinned, a light dancing in his eyes that hadn’t been there in over a year.

“And if we are innocent?” Harry asked, a note of hope in his eyes. Severus shrugged.

“Well then, we’ll have arrived in style, enough style to satisfy Rita Skeeter at least,” he said. Harry chuckled quietly before cracking up into a loud laugh. He set his plate on the counter next to him and sat down on the floor, his laughs turning into sobs. Severus frowned and wheeled forward. He put his hand out to Harry who grasped it immediately. Severus pulled Harry up and onto his lap, grimacing at the weight. Harry wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck and cried.

Wimbly quietly cleaned up the meal, pretending not to look as Severus wrapped his arms around Harry and rubbed his back, quietly humming a random tune.

 

 

~*~

  
“What do you mean, you can’t take it?” Hermione asked, a tremor in her voice. Kreacher shook his head as the door inched close, squishing his face.

“Kreacher cannot take it right now.”

“But it’s to help Snape!” she said. “I promise! Nothing weird!” Kreacher stared into Hermione’s desperate eyes.

“Kreacher cannot take it _right now,_ ” he said. Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Can you take it next week?” she asked. Kreacher pulled away from the crack in the door.

“Goodbye,” he said, snapping the door shut. Hermione huffed and went down the steps to the street where Ron was waiting for her. He frowned.

“What happened?” he asked. Hermione shook her head and stalked down the street.

“I don’t think they’ve set up a system to transport things back and forth yet. They probably think we’re still waiting in France for the moment that stupid cupboard goes out, and doing something silly to track it,” she said.

“Well…we did it in Spain,” Ron said, following her quickly.

“Yes and it didn’t work very well, now did it? So what would be the point of trying it again?” she snapped.

“Because it almost worked? And they don’t realize that we have other devious ways of finding them this time?” Ron guessed. Hermione huffed again.

“Really, Harry is just being ridiculous. If he would just come home and—”

“Hermione, stop,” Ron said, finally catching up enough to grab her arm. Hermione stopped walking and turned to face him. He smiled sadly and brushed away a tear with his thumb.

“I miss him too. You just…go annoy Kreacher every single day until he takes the potion, okay. Just like you did with the food,” he said. Hermione smiled softly and nodded, leaning into Ron’s hand as it cupped her face.

“I’m just tired,” she murmured.

“Well, let’s take the day off. We’ll go home, put on our pajamas, and watch that television thing,” Ron said. Hermione grinned.

“I like that idea,” she said as they turned and continued walking down the street, the box with the potion tucked under one arm as their hands clasped each other’s.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus stared at the newspaper in front of him. After Harry finally climbed off his lap, they had said their goodnights and gone to their separate rooms. Unable to sleep, Severus had grabbed a few of the newspapers from the bottom drawer of his dresser. He had fallen asleep reading them the night before, and now he was awake for the morning, reading more.

From what he had gathered after the trial, there had been a general uproar. Hermione Granger had kept the press thinking that Harry and Severus had disappeared to a known safe location, and that she was in contact with Harry. The Wizengamot had been outraged, as the Interrogator had immediately burned the paper the actual sentence was on. There was a recount and the real verdict came out. Severus Snape was innocent. During that trial there was a vote on Harry’s innocence on kidnapping and harboring a fugitive. It was a formality, as the Savior was unanimously deemed innocent. It wasn’t until then that people realized Hermione had no idea where Harry was. There was a call for the Interrogator’s removal from the Wizengamot, which happened promptly.

It was as far as Severus had gotten so far, and he looked up, listening intently as he heard Harry’s door open across the hallway. Heart pounding, Severus tightened his hold on the newspaper, prepared to hide it quickly. After last night, he didn’t feel Harry was quite ready to see them. The soft shuffling footsteps headed past Severus’ door, however, and continued to the bathroom. Severus sighed in relief as he heard the door open and close. He sent the papers back to their hiding spot and flicked his wand for his wheelchair to roll towards the edge of the bed. Carefully he pulled himself onto the chair and settled in, before rolling out of his room and to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Master Snape!” Wimbly said cheerfully.

“Good morning, Wimbly,” Severus greeted her, smiling at the house-elf.

“Is Master Snape wanting breakfast?”

“Yes, please.”

Severus rolled to the window and looked out. The few rays he could get to shine on his face chased away the lurking coldness that had settled into his bones. He never focused on it for long, but the past few nights he'd felt it creeping over him, as if trying to envelop him and drag him back to the sea of the unknown misery he had escaped. He let the sun warm his face as he sighed and closed his eyes.

“Did Master Snape sleep well?” Wimbly asked.

“It was satisfactory. I must admit, I miss my old fleece blanket. It’s a strange comfort, but a comfort nonetheless,” Severus replied. Wimbly’s ear twitched.

“Wimbly will find Master Snape a fleece blanket before Wimbly leaves,” she said. Severus opened his eyes and looked at the house-elf, standing on a stool next to the stove.

“You’re leaving?” he asked curiously.

“Wimbly has to help Kreacher make the cabinet,” she said, touching a cabinet above her.

Severus frowned. “Can you make two cabinets? One for me that I can reach?” he asked. Wimbly glanced at Severus before looking at the cabinets next to the stove and oven.

“Wimbly can try, it’ll take a day or two for Wimbly and Kreacher to finish. And then Wimbly has to go help Kreacher see the next house,” she said.

“Another trip to the market is in store, then,” Severus said, looking back out the window.

“Kreacher and Wimbly can send Masters Harry and Snape food,” she said. Severus shook his head.

“Any excuse to go outside is a good excuse. We should use the cabinets for emergency items, like potions, and goods we need that we can’t find here,” Severus said. Before Wimbly could reply, Harry emerged from the hallway, rubbing a towel against his hair.

“What are we talking about?” he asked, letting the towel drop over his bare shoulders, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers.

“We are going to go to the market today,” Severus said, looking at him.

“We are?” Harry asked. Severus nodded.

“Wimbly is leaving, and we can’t eat leftover lasagna for every meal until the cabinets are set up. Plus, I think it’d be good if we got outside more,” Severus said.

Harry smirked as he sat down at the table. “You sure you’re up for that?”

Severus rolled his eyes and moved himself to the table. “I can’t walk, it doesn’t mean I can’t do anything else. Besides, I can help make sure we actually get real food if I go with you,” Severus stated. Wimbly put down two bowls of porridge in front of the men.

“What makes you so certain of that?”

“Parlo italiano,” Severus said, grabbing his spoon.

The look on Harry’s face was comical. “You can speak Italian?” he asked excitedly.

“That is what I just said,” Severus replied.

“You know there was this woman on the street yesterday. She must’ve been a witch because she saw me headed up here, and she just rattled off at me. I had no clue what she was saying. She lives just down the road, though, over some old shop,” he said excitedly. Severus hummed.

“Really?” he asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah! She mentioned something about the Black family too.”

“Well, maybe we’ll go visit her while we are at it.”

A while later, Severus was showered and dressed in another pair of pajamas that had been transfigured into simple black trousers with a simple black t-shirt. He ran a hand through his hair and huffed. The shorter cut had grown out slightly, giving Severus what he thought was a strange look. Despite Harry reassuring him that he looked good with the shorter hair, Severus was determined to grow it back out. He tugged at the t-shirt he wore, and scowled as Harry laughed.

“Maybe we’ll get you some new clothes too,” Harry teased. “And a trip to the hair stylist?”

“We’ll focus on food today, Mr. Potter,” he growled. He wheeled to the front door of the flat and opened it, staring down the steep stairs.

“Well…” he said, nodding his head and taking in a deep breath. Harry came up behind him, also nodding.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.

Severus sighed. “Forward and onward then,” he said.

Harry frowned. “How?”

“Very carefully and with magic,” Severus replied.

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. “Well thanks for that enlightening answer.”

They both raised their wands, and moments later Severus was safely on the ground below in the shadows of the buildings. Harry bounded down the stairs behind him.

“Well, now that the easy part is over, which way would you like to go?” Harry asked. Severus glanced out to the bright street ahead of them.

“Let’s visit that woman you told me about,” Severus said, gripping the wheels on his chair.

“Why?” Harry asked curiously.

“I said I speak Italian, I did not say I was very good at it or that I know Sicilian. She could be very essential in helping us,” he explained, rolling forward. Harry’s lips rounded into an 'O' shape as he followed Severus.

As they entered the street, the sunshine beat down on Severus, and he stopped, sighing loudly as he felt the warmth envelop him. Harry paused in his trek towards the other shop and stared at him.

“You okay?” Harry asked. Severus hummed and opened eyes.

“More than,” he replied, pushing the wheels towards Harry. “Lead on.”

The shop was filled with unusual oddities and trinkets.

“Oh wow,” Harry murmured, going to a shelf where a dozen handcrafted puppets sat. Severus ignored him and the brightly colored puppets and ceramics, and carefully navigated through the narrow shop.

“Buon pomeriggio,” an older woman said, appearing from behind the shelf. She glanced at Severus and then to Harry. “Oh, ha veramente capito che cosa ho detto.”

“Appena,” Severus remarked with a smirk. “Buon pomeriggio.”

The woman raised her eyebrows as she looked back at Severus.

“A lei parla italiano?” she asked.

“Sì. Sono passati molti anni però. Il mio compagno mi ha parlato di voi e ho pensato di venire a chiedere il vostro aiuto,” he responded as Harry came up.

“What are you saying?” Harry asked curiously.

“We’re greeting each other. Did you give her a fake name by chance?” Severus replied. Harry nodded.

“Told her my middle name,” he said. Severus glanced at him and rolled his eyes.

“Predictable,” he said before turning to the woman, “Mi chiamo Tobias.”

“Voi potete chiamarmi Signora Esposito, e’ un Black?” she asked. Severus frowned.

“Io non lo sono, ma James lo e’,” he replied. Perhaps later using the Black last name would come back to haunt them, but for now Severus gladly let the woman think that Harry was the son of his godfather. Harry tapped his fingers against the wheelchair impatiently.

“Is she going to help us?” he asked. Severus looked at him sharply.

“I haven’t exactly gotten there yet,” he snapped.

“Well, I can’t tell!”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Signora Esposito, come potete vedere, il mio italiano e’ buono ma lento. Volevamo chiederla se poteva aiutarci,” Severus said.

“Che cosa vi serve?” the woman asked.

“Aiuto al mercato,” Severus started. He glanced at Harry briefly before looking back at Signora Esposito with a smirk. He said something more, causing the older woman to glance at Harry. Harry narrowed his eyes at the sarcastic tone Severus used.

“Se mandera’ il ragazzo tre giorni alla settimana ad aiutarmi nel mio negozio, io la aiutero’ al mercato,” she bargained. Severus started to respond before stopping. To have Harry help the woman out at her shop three days a week would be an excellent excuse to get him out of the house, which would allow Severus to find a way to convince Harry that they needed to return to England. Even if it meant finding a way to contact Hermione. Signora Esposito seemed to notice his hesitation, and he stalled.

“Hai bisogno di aiuto inel negozio?” he asked. She nodded.

“Mia nipote si e’ sposata pochi mesi fa, lasciandomi qua da sola. Mi sto invecchiando,” she responded.

Severus narrowed his eyes. “Non parla italiano.”

“L’imparera,” she responded. Severus laughed.

“What is she saying?” Harry asked. Severus glanced at him.

“How would you feel about having a job? Come in and help Signora Esposito with the shop a few days every week, and in exchange, she’ll help teach you Italian and help us out at the market or wherever else we need to go?” he asked. Harry frowned.

“We don’t need the money,” Harry said. Severus shrugged.

“No, but we’ll kill each other if we’re stuck in that flat every single day with nothing to do. You’ll learn the language faster too. It’ll be good.”

“And what will you do?” Harry asked.

“Oh, I’ll find something,” Severus said. “I’ll exercise, and maybe force you to get me some books to read. Maybe she’ll show us different places I can go visit during the day. Maybe there’s an apothecary—we can find a suitable potion to help me.”

Harry seemed to think about it, reluctance written all over his face.

“It’ll be good,” Severus reassured. “This way we’ll have something to talk about other than that one book on your Muggle contraption.”

Harry rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Sure, sure, I’ll do it. You conniving bastard,” Harry replied. Severus turned to Signora Esposito.

“Lo consideri un affare,” he said.

“Quanto tempo resterete voi due qui?” Signora Esposito asked. Severus frowned at the question and glanced at Harry. The woman posed a good question, but the answer depended entirely on Harry and if he could be convinced to go back home.

“Non so una risposta a questa domanda,” he replied truthfully.

 

 

~*~

  
 _Severus hung by the door and listened intently as Harry spoke quietly._

 _“Why didn’t you tell them you recognized me, when the Snatchers caught us?” Harry asked. Draco looked away._

 _“I don’t see why it matters. I didn’t and that’s the important part.”_

 _“I have to know why, Draco,” Harry said. “I can’t give a real honest testimony if you don’t tell me.”_

 _Draco looked up and stared at Harry in the eye._

 _“I didn’t want to be there. I never…I thought getting the Mark…My father didn’t tell me what he had to do when he first got the Mark. He didn’t tell me the things they were forced to do. I only saw him after he had passed the time of doing the real dirty work. The Dark Lord threatened my family’s life. He took over our estate. It turned into a horrible place,” Draco said. Harry stayed quiet and Draco sighed._

 _“I wanted you to win. I thought, if I tell them it’s not him, and he gets free, and saves us all, maybe I can have my life back to normal.”_

 _“Things aren’t going back to the way they were.”_

 _“Well, I see that now, don’t I?”_

 _“You didn’t tell them it wasn’t me though, you said you couldn’t tell if it was or wasn’t,” Harry pressed._

 _“Well, what if that enchantment wore off right then? I’d look a fool. My parents wouldn’t tell, but Aunt Bella, or any of those Snatchers? They’d tell the Dark Lord in a heartbeat. Draco, he hesitated again, might as well do away with him! Do you know I watched his snake eat Professor Burbage in front of me?” Draco’s voice was slightly hysterical and Severus closed his eyes, frowning deeply._

 _If he could go back and change just Draco’s part..._

 _“Professor Burbage? The Muggle Studies professor?” Harry asked, a twinge of horror in his voice. Draco nodded._

 _“She saw Severus…begged him for his help, called him her friend. And then she was dead, and Nagini…I don’t want to talk about it,” Draco said quickly. Harry leaned forward and grabbed Draco’s hand._

 _“I’m so sorry, Draco. I really am. I had been told to talk to you. To try and convince you to switch sides and give you a chance…I was too stubborn and pigheaded, though,” Harry said._

 _“I wouldn’t have listened to you anyway,” Draco replied truthfully._

 _“I will testify for you, and for your mother, but I can’t testify for your father, Draco,” Harry said._

 _“Why not?” Draco asked. Harry shook his head._

 _“You didn’t kill Dumbledore, I was there, and I saw you hesitate. You didn’t identify me, knowing that it had to be me with Hermione and Ron there. Your mother told Voldemort I was dead when I told her you were still alive. She saved my life. But your father…” Harry trailed off and stared at Draco, who looked away._

 _“I really think that the Malfoy name can be a very respected name in all corners of Wizarding society again, Draco, but not with Lucius Malfoy as its head,” Harry said. Draco stood up suddenly._

 _“Th…Thank you, Mr. Potter, I appreciate what you’re doing for my family,” he said. Harry stood and they shook hands. Severus took a few steps away from the door as Draco bustled out. The boy stopped for a moment and looked up at Severus._

 _A dead icy weight settled into Severus’ chest as he saw the look in Draco’s eyes. There was no innocence, no arrogance, nothing that Severus used to identify with the young man. There was only despair, and a stunning lack of innocence. Draco tore his eyes away from Severus and stalked down the hallway, but not before Severus saw the flash of anger._

 _Harry Potter would give not only a testimony, but a safe harbor to the man who had killed Albus Dumbledore and taken his place as Headmaster. But he wouldn’t spare a word for a classmate’s father._

 _Draco left and Harry sighed heavily, leaning against the doorframe._

 _“I guess you heard all of that,” he murmured. Severus nodded. “I should have listened to you.”_

 _“There’s nothing you can do now. Decisions were made. He could’ve just as easily reached out to you, as you to him,” Severus said quietly._

 _“I’m an executioner; if I don’t speak at your trial, you might as well consider yourself dead,” Harry huffed, turning and going back into the room he'd just left. Severus took a few steps into the room._

 _“You know what I want to know?” Harry asked. “What really happens to the hero after the story is over? What’s a hero supposed to do with his life? After he’s done condemning people to their fates? I’ll have people who I’ve done some inadvertent damage to who will never think that what I’m doing is enough to make up for what I’ve done. And then I’ll have people who think what I’m doing isn’t worthy enough for me. I just…I’ve done my part, haven’t I?” Harry asked, turning and staring at Severus, a bit of wild helplessness in his eyes. Severus walked the rest of the way into the room, grabbing Harry and enveloping him in his arms._

 _“You live, Harry. You live, you ignore them, and eventually they’ll leave you to the history books. But if you think you’re going to have the strength to ignore the comments on any kind of relationship with me, first you’ll have to have the strength to ignore any comments on yourself,” he replied. Harry leaned into Severus._

 _“Maybe I should say something on behalf of Lucius,” he muttered into Severus’ chest._

 _“Don’t. His son doesn’t realize it, but Lucius Malfoy deserves everything he gets for disgracing his family name and putting his only heir through such torture. If you ask his wife, she’ll agree,” Severus said. Harry sighed and nodded._

 _“I won’t.”_

 

 

 

~*~

  
The market was bustling and busy. There were bright colors and loud sounds everywhere. Severus watched in fascination as Harry drew into himself, hunching his shoulders and staring down at his feet, and grabbed the handles on Severus’ chair, opting to gently guide the man.

“Non e’ a suo agio con la folla, vero?” Signora Esposito asked, observing Harry.

Severus shrugged. “Ha avuto moment difficili. Siamo qui per farlo adattare nuovamente,” he replied.

Harry was ignoring the conversation entirely, too lost in translation to bother with asking Severus about every sentence. He suddenly missed France and Michele very much. The smaller town had no crowds, and was easier to handle.

“Da quanto sembra penso che siate qui per farvi riadattare,” Signora Esposito replied, motioning to Severus’ legs.

Severus shrugged and then paused, realizing he didn’t know the word for potion. He frowned and cursed.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“I’m a Potions master who speaks Italian and can’t think of the word for potion,” he said. Harry laughed as Signora Esposito stared on, bemused.

“It’s always the little words, right? That’s brilliant, um…do you know the word for…medicine?” Harry asked. Severus thought for a moment.

“Ointment…” he finally stated before looking back up at Signora Esposito. “La pomata che mi serve è difficile da ottenere mentre siamo qui.”

“Pozione,” Signora Esposito said. Severus had enough humility to look incredibly sheepish as Harry laughed louder.

“I could’ve figured that one out!” Harry crowed. Signora Esposito smiled fondly at Harry as his laughter relaxed him to some degree and he began to look at his surroundings more curiously.

Severus scowled. “Knock it off, James,” he snapped.

“Ti mostrero’ dove gli stabilimenti dei maghi sono più tardi, noi possiamo trovarti un buon sostituto per la pozione,” Signora Esposito offered. Severus nodded at her graciously, thankful that the woman was observant enough to realize they would need to find an apothecary and other Wizarding establishments as well as the market place.

“Grazie.”

They continued on through the market, picking up various different foods, some of which Harry recognized, and some of which he didn’t. Even Severus found himself clarifying several different items and their uses. Signora Esposito seemed to find them amusing every time they looked at her with the same expressions of confusion.

At some point, Severus had become the designated bag carrier. Which was why, a while later, he found himself with several heavy bags resting in his lap as they came to a stop in front of the old building where Harry and Severus lived. Signora Esposito looked at them and then looked up at the stairs. She chuckled.

“Buona fortuna. Digli al ragazzo che ci vedremo lunedi’,” she said.

“Lo faro’. Grazie per il tuo aiuto oggi,” Severus replied.

“Arrivederci,” she said, heading down the street. Harry waved at her with a smile before pushing Severus to the base of the stairs.

“Isn’t going up always harder?” he asked. Severus sighed.

“Unfortunately? Yes.” They pulled out their wands and looked up the stairs before Harry stopped and stared at Severus.

“Did you tell her your name was Tobias” he asked.

Severus glared at him. “Yes,” he replied.

“Isn’t your father’s name Tobias?” Harry asked.

Severus rolled his eyes and looked away. “Yes.”

Harry smirked and waited a beat. “Isn’t _your_ middle name Tobias?” he asked with a grin.

Severus scowled. “Let’s go, Potter, I’m not sitting here waiting all day.”

 

 

~*~

  
On Monday, Harry stood by the door anxiously as Severus grunted on the floor, his face tensing with his leg muscles as he contracted and relaxed them.

“I could stay, I don’t have to go. What if you need something?”

“Wimbly will come if I call, we’ve established this,” Severus sighed, grunting again. Harry fiddled with the English to Italian dictionary in his hands and didn’t move. Finally, Severus stopped, relaxing his legs and body and opening his eyes. He stared at Harry upside down.

“Go, I’ll send my Patronus if I need something,” he said. Harry huffed and turned around, opening the front door and stepping out. Severus waited a few moments to make sure he wasn’t coming back in before closing his eyes. He lifted his left leg a few centimeters from the floor and twisted his face, holding it there before letting it down with a loud grunt.

An hour later, Severus wheeled out of the bathroom, showered and dressed. He grabbed a newspaper that he hadn’t read from the bottom of his dresser, and moved to the window in the common area. After rolling his eyes at several stories from a few months ago, questioning Harry’s status as hero or budding Dark Lord, he moved to the back of the paper and attacked the puzzles with vigor. He was trying to remember which German child-eating beast had only seven letters in its name, when he heard the _clunk_. He looked up sharply and stared at the kitchen cabinets.

Wimbly and Kreacher had finished setting both cabinets up, but nothing had been sent so far. Heart pounding for reasons unknown to him, Severus wheeled forward and opened the door to the lower cabinet. A wooden box sat inside, _Slug and Jitters_ carved carefully into the top. Severus sucked in a breath as his hands touched the smooth wooden surface. He pulled the box into his lap, letting the cabinet door shut. In the box was a bottle of a thick black liquid, a pink ribbon around its neck. There were also four smaller boxes with perfectly preserved and prepared ingredients. On the inside of the lid, a list of instructions was attached.

Severus ignored it, though. He knew this potion. He'd had to brew it for a new student the summer after his first year of teaching. What he was interested in was the ribbon. He grabbed the bottle and carefully undid the extraneous fabric that no respectable employee of Slug and Jitters would ever add. The ribbon was not only pink, but had a thin line of black in a swirling pattern down the center. As Severus straightened the ribbon out, the black swirl straightened into text.

 _False Bottom. Half-Blood Prince._

Severus smirked. He put the bottle back into the box and wheeled himself to the kitchen table, where he carefully laid out all of the components inside the box, before flipping it over. He ghosted his fingers over the wood again.

“I am the Half-Blood Prince,” he said confidently. There was a sound of a latch opening. He removed the bottom and stared into its hidden compartment. Inside was a piece of parchment and a galleon. Severus raised an eyebrow curiously, passing his wand over both to make sure neither was a Portkey.

Satisfied, he lifted the letter.

 _Dear Professor,_

 _I understand that this letter may not find you in the best of health, and hope that the potion provided will help remedy that. Realize that none of the objects contained within this package are to deceive or trick you or your travelling companion. If anything, they are to help you._

 _You are an innocent man, Professor. I swear this. The Interrogator had ulterior motives against you after the death of his family, an issue that should’ve been cleared more thoroughly after the first war. I know I cannot convince Harry to listen to us, but hopefully by providing evidence to you, you can help him see that you are both welcomed and waited for back home in England._

 _The coin provided is a false one. If you tap your wand to it and speak a brief message, it will be transmitted to a second coin in my possession. There is no tracking spell on it. There is no way for me to use it to find you and Harry in your new hiding spot without you telling me your location._  
  
I would be lying if I said I did not want you to tell me that location. But first, I want to make sure you are able to fully trust me. Send word when you receive this package. Let me know if there is anything I can send that will help you recover, or that will convince you that you are an innocent man. You deserved to be recognized for your actions as a war hero.

 _With all my heart and hope,_

 _Hermione Granger_

Severus traced the familiar script carefully before grabbing the coin. Staring at it for several moments, he put both items back, and replaced the false bottom before turning the box right side up. Scowling, he carefully put all the ingredients back into the box. He grabbed the newspaper, wheeled into his room, and put both the box and the paper carefully back into the bottom drawer of his dresser. Pulling out his wand, he quietly warded the drawer before sitting in the darkness of his room, letting his thoughts take over.

 

 

~*~

  
“Do you think Kreacher will really give it to them?” Hermione asked, tapping her fingers on the desk anxiously.

“Give him time, Hermione. Even if Severus gets it today, if Harry’s around, he’s not going to be opening up the bottom half and pulling all that stuff out,” Ron replied, making marks on the map in front of him. Hermione sighed and looked over at the map.

“Greece or Italy?” she asked. Ron shrugged and smiled as he looked up at her.

“Don’t know, really. Don’t have a hunch either way. But…” he trailed off and Hermione frowned.

“What?” she asked. Ron shrugged again and looked back down at the maps.

“Maybe we just go to one of them for a holiday. If we happen to bump into them while we’re there…well…stranger things have happened,” he said. Hermione smiled.

“It would be nice to actually enjoy the places Harry keeps dragging us to,” she said. Ron laughed.

“I see our honeymoon as travelling from Spain to France to whichever country he’s in now, and actually taking the time to see the sights for once,” he said. Hermione smiled brightly.

“I’d like that, but we’ll have to put off our honeymoon from after the wedding. I don’t really want to travel during winter,” she said.

Ron looked up at her, bemused. “We’re getting married in the winter?” he asked.

Hermione shrugged. “I was thinking Autumn, actually. Maybe this Autumn?”

“What about Harry?” he asked. Hermione bit her bottom lip and shrugged.

“I get the feeling it’s now or never. If he’s not there…he’ll never be,” she said. Ron smiled sadly and reached for Hermione’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

“He’ll be there,” he said. Hermione smiled.

“You’ll be there. And that’s all I really need,” she replied. Ron smiled brightly, his cheeks flushing slightly as he looked back down at the map.

His hand never left Hermione’s.

 

 

~*~

  
Signora Esposito rolled her eyes as Harry poked at his lunch.

“Veramente, esci di qui. Vai a vedere Tobias,” she said, swatting at him. Harry frowned and went to pull his dictionary out. She swatted at his hands.

“Un’ora. Pranzo. Vai,” she said. Harry stood up and pointed at the door. Signora Esposito nodded.

“Un’ora,” she repeated. Harry started to move towards the door before she stopped him. “Aspetta, non ti dimenticare questo!”

Harry took the piece of paper she was brandishing before smiling brightly at her.

“Grazie!” he said, before running out of the shop. The most he had done all day was clean. He'd swept the front of the shop, swept the back of the shop, wiped down shelves, and dusted tall corners. He felt utterly useless. Signora Esposito spoke to him, a lot, but he still couldn’t pick up most of it. He knew how to say the actions he had performed, and that was about it. He didn’t see the point of the whole job thing. Surely there was something else they could give the old woman that would let her help them without Harry having to be lost and confused most of the day.

Still, he wasn’t at home wallowing in his thoughts and fighting with Severus, which ultimately was the point. He assumed.

His feet pounded against the pavement and then up the stairs. He burst into the flat.

“Severus?” he called into the quiet flat.

There was no response.

Harry’s heart pounded as he stepped in cautiously, wand in hand.

“Severus?” he said again, his voice a mere whisper as fear overtook him.

The longing to be back in France was stronger than ever.

In France if he walked into a silent house, he had to fear Hermione and Ron being there, or the CD player going out, or a dead body. He had prepared for those things, multiple times.

In Sicily, silence could mean that Severus had left.

Was that why he had wanted Harry out of the house?

He moved towards Severus’ dark room and peered in. The man sat silent in his chair, not moving. A strange relief flooded Harry, before he wondered if the man was dead.

“Severus?” he repeated, flicking his wand to get some light in the room. Severus started and looked up suddenly, as if hearing Harry for the first time.

“What?” he snapped, before seeing the look on Harry’s face. He frowned and gentled his tone. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought you were…gone,” Harry murmured. Severus shook his head, as if trying to shake off whatever thoughts he had gotten lost in. He wheeled towards Harry.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave. What…what time is it?”

“Lunch time, Signora Esposito sent me home to check on you. She gave me this,” Harry said, handing the parchment to Severus. Severus grabbed it but didn’t look at it as he pushed past Harry and towards the kitchen. Harry followed him. “How long were you just sitting in there?”

“I don’t…it doesn’t matter. Have you eaten?” Severus asked.

“It does matter. It’s no good if I go out and do things if you’re just sitting in here wallowing in your despair,” Harry responded. Severus grabbed an orange from the counter and moved to the window, letting the sunshine warm his face. Harry huffed and started digging through the cabinets to find something he could make for lunch.

“What is this?” Severus asked, looking at the paper Harry had handed him.

“I don’t know, I don’t read or speak Italian. Although I can tell you to sweep, that’s about it,” he said. Severus rolled his eyes and unfolded the paper. He scanned it carefully as Harry found the last of the leftover lasagna. He sniffed it before deciding it was good enough to heat up and eat. He glanced over at Severus.

“What is it?” Harry asked. Severus looked up at him.

“A map and instructions to the Wizarding part of town. It’s where I’ll go spend the rest of the afternoon while you’re at work,” he stated.

“Maybe you can find something to do there that’ll keep you busy every day I’m at work,” Harry said.

“Perhaps. I need mornings to exercise, though. I’ll stop by the shop and speak with Signora Esposito before running off,” Severus said. Harry hummed and nodded before serving the two plates of lasagna on the table.

“Come eat first.”

 

 

~*~

  
Severus took in the smell of the apothecary and sighed, feeling at home. He carefully wheeled in, greeted the shopkeep, and set out to find an empty wooden box. Once found, he perused the shelves. He recognized plenty of the ingredients. However, every now and again he happened across something entirely unfamiliar.

Severus ran his fingers over the shelves. He couldn’t remember the last time he'd brewed a potion. On an impulse, he grabbed a small pewter cauldron and a stirring rod. He knew that Wimbly or Kreacher could easily get him one to put together the potion Granger had sent, but he craved his own. He made his purchase before leaving the store and continuing along the cobblestone pathway.

It wasn’t Diagon Alley, but the fizzle of magic was in the air, and the sun was shining down on Severus.

It wasn’t total bliss, but it was close.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione turned again in the bed, pulling her pillow closer. Next to her, Ron snored softly, in nothing but his boxers. He was spread out as much as he could be, with the blankets only half covering him. Normally, Hermione would find this endearing, but tonight she was just annoyed.

It had been a week since Kreacher took the box for Severus from her. She waited anxiously, carrying the coin around with her everywhere, hoping for some small sign that Severus had received it. She couldn’t send him a message first through the coin; if Kreacher or Harry had it, it would give her away instantly. She couldn’t risk it. But to know that there was a possibility…

She sighed and pulled the covers up over her head, stretching her bare legs towards the end of the bed. She was too restless. She knew she should get up and go do something, anything, to keep from waking Ron up with her endless tossing. He needed his rest. Though they were technically both employed by the Ministry with the specific task of finding Harry, Ron was working on getting his Auror license. Hermione focused on books when she wasn’t focused on finding Harry. She was set on getting into the legal industry in the Wizarding world. She studied intensely. With a huff, she tossed the covers back and let her bare feet hit the floor.

“Where goin'? Ron mumbled, turning to where Hermione had been.

“Nowhere, love, I’ll be back,” she whispered, pushing her pillow towards him. He grabbed it and buried his nose into the pillow.

“Is nice,” he murmured. Hermione grinned and stood, stretching upwards. The oversized t-shirt she wore rode up slightly. Relaxing, she tugged the shirt back down and padded out of the room.

She headed towards the living room, where she had left a rather large tome on Wizarding law. Curling up on the couch, she quietly flipped through the pages she had already read, letting her eyes scan.

She couldn’t let Harry get away again. If Severus could reply to her, if he could give her a sign that he might have some grudging respect for her, so that she could carefully work the situation in order to get to them both…it would make her almost as happy as having Ron’s ring on her finger.

She knew Ron missed Harry as much as she did, and longed for him to be his best man at their wedding. But it was different for her. Harry was more than just a friend; Harry was her brother, more than he was Ron’s brother. They were both only children from the Muggle world. The Weasleys would go off on things that not even Hermione could read in her books, and they were each other’s support. The hardest time in the tent had been when Ron had left them, and yet Harry had done everything he could to make Hermione feel better. She smiled fondly as she thought of him reenacting the story of Rapunzel for her, after learning it was her favorite fairy tale.

She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear the buzzing.

“Hermione!” Ron shouted from the bedroom. Hermione looked up quickly. There was a loud buzzing accompanied by a shrill whistle. She gasped, jumping up and letting the book fall to the floor as she ran to the bedroom. Ron was propped up on the bed, staring wildly at the coin sitting on Hermione’s bedside table. Hermione stood in front of it and carefully reached out. The noise stopped the moment her fingers brushed the coin. She lifted it up and let her eyes slide shut in relief as she read the message.

 _Send more potion. S.S._

 

 

~*~

  
They settled into a routine. Harry would leave in the morning; Severus would put a bit more of the potion together, then exercise. After his shower, he would read another paper, or do another crossword puzzle, and have lunch ready by the time Harry came in and chattered in broken Italian. In the afternoon Severus would explore the small city they found themselves in, pushing along in his wheelchair, and talking to the locals. Sometimes he would go to the apothecary and pick up an assortment of different ingredients and tools to experiment.

Severus had told Harry that the potion he was taking was not the correct potion, but something with similar effects. He had never been more proud of his abysmal teaching skills than when Harry failed to recognize anything from the original ingredients that had been sent.

It was difficult to find a way to brew the potion, a single dose at a time. Hermione technically sent enough materials to last a week, each time she sent a new box. Less experienced brewers, however, would brew the entire thing at one time and drink it all at once. Severus was set on recovering faster, though, and he knew that making sure to take it once a day, as small a dose as it was, would work better.

In the evening, Severus stopped by Signora Esposito’s shop to collect Harry and together they went back to the flat, Harry chatting aimlessly about his day. They’d make dinner together and talk before retiring to either books that Severus had purchased or random games that they were both able to find.

Tonight it was books. Harry had a small stack of Italian children’s books that he struggled through every night, attempting to connect words with bright illustrations, while Severus had a book on Muggle physical therapy that Wimbly had found for him.

“I need a treadmill,” Severus announced.

Harry looked up. “A treadmill?” he asked. Severus nodded with a frown. “Like one of those exercise things?”

“I assume so,” Severus responded, handing the book to Harry. “See it?”

Harry hummed and looked at the image, reading the text.

“I’m off tomorrow, maybe I can find some way to slap something together,” Harry said, handing the book back to Severus. A few minutes of silence descended before Harry closed a book with a large red dog on the cover.

“So, we need to talk about where we’re going to go next,” Harry said.

Severus looked up sharply. “Excuse me?” he asked.

“Well, you’re healing. We can’t stay in Europe for too long without being caught by the Ministry. We should think about moving. Preferably somewhere where they speak English,” Harry said.

“Is there no hope of convincing you to at least confirm that we are not criminals in England first?” Severus asked, snapping his own book shut, scowl firmly in place.

Harry’s face hardened. “We are not going to England,” he stated firmly.

“ _You_ are not going to England,” Severus snapped. Harry’s anger was obvious as he stood up quickly.

“We are not having this stupid argument again, Severus. I don’t want to go back there. We are not welcome!”

“You don’t know that!”

“And you do?”

Severus caught himself before he told Harry about the newspapers. He looked away from Harry.

“I’m going to bed,” he growled, grabbing the wheels of his chair.

“You are not walking away from this, Severus Snape!” Harry shouted as Severus moved to the hallway. Severus whirled around quickly, making Harry blink, unsure as to how Severus managed it.

“Obviously not! I am wheeling away!” he shouted back, before turning again. He slammed the door to his room and went to the bottom drawer of his dresser.

Pulling out the fake galleon, Severus touched his wand to it and hissed his message.

 

 

~*~

  
 _“How did you get in here?” Severus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. Harry Potter sat, wasted, on the floor next to his couch._

 _“I know the password!” Harry cried, waving a finger in the air._

 _“Yes, but the wards are keyed to not let you in unless I myself am in,” Severus said tightly, trying not to lose his temper. It was one in the morning. He had left a few hours before for a meeting with the Dark Lord, and had been hoping to take a relaxing bath after his debriefing with Dumbledore._

 _“Alonso likes me, I think,” Harry whispered quietly, peering around Severus’ shoulder as if the suit of armor had followed the man into the room. Harry burst into a fit of giggles as Severus sighed. He’d have to talk to the armor. Alonso was normally better than this._

 _“The whole castle likes you, Potter, its every stone radiates as you pass by them. That does not give you permission to go into places in which you are not allowed,” he said, straightening up._

 _“’S not true! The Room of Requirement doesn’t like me. Barely lets me in these days. Don’t know why either. Otherwise I’d be there,” Harry said._

 _“And you’d be sober, and my liquor cabinet would be full,” Severus grumbled, walking past the teenager to his liquor cabinet to survey the damage._

 _“Probably,” Harry said, before giggling again. Reassured that the more vicious alcohols were still in place and untouched, Severus sat down in his normal chair, grabbing the bottle of Firewhiskey from Harry and drinking straight from it. Harry stared up at him as Severus rested his head on his hand._

 _“Bad meeting?” Harry asked quietly._

 _Severus nodded. “See any of it?”_

 _Harry shook his head._

 _Relieved, Severus let himself relax a small amount. “What’s wrong?” he asked, taking another sip of the Firewhiskey._

 _Harry stared at him for a while. Severus had a feeling they were both thinking of the end of the school year, looming ahead of them._

 _Finally, Harry took a breath and answered. “I just want to skip this part,” he mumbled. Severus nodded solemnly, knowing what the boy meant._

 _“No potion or spell in the world can do that, trust me, I’ve tried,” Severus said, taking another sip. Harry snorted, which started another giggle fit._

 _“You’ve got a student drunk in your rooms off your Firewhiskey. Couldn’t that get you in trouble?” he asked._

 _“Considering he broke in? Maybe not. The fact that he’s had several orgasms on my furniture, however…I’m more worried about that being found out than this,” Severus said. Harry seemed to sober and hummed at the memory, letting his eyes slide shut._

 _“Just one orgasm,” Harry mumbled._

 _“That I know of; how many times have you rubbed yourself off thinking I would never know?” Severus asked. Harry flushed and grinned, eyes still closed._

 _“That sounds like a good idea.”_

 _“Don’t you dare,” Severus growled. Harry’s eyes opened, a mischievous glint sparkling in them._

 _“I won’t,” he said. Severus rolled his eyes and took another sip of the alcohol. It burned on its way down, but it lessened the ache of watching the carnage that happened at the meeting._

 _“Hey,” Harry said. Severus snapped out of his thoughts at the tug on his robes and looked down. Harry had moved. He was sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up and on either side of Severus’ leg, as if he were straddling it. He wrapped his arms around Severus’ leg and rested his cheek on Severus’ knee._

 _“Don’t get lost,” Harry mumbled. Severus reached down and ran a hand through Harry’s messy hair._

 _“I’m here,” he muttered. Harry hummed._

 _“Thank you.”_

 _“For what?”_

 _“For not lying, or hiding, or doing anything stupid like that,” Harry said. Severus frowned._

 _“What are you talking about?” he asked. Harry shrugged._

 _“You’re always honest and open with me. Nobody else ever does that,” he said. Severus felt a pang as he thought about the conversation he had had with Dumbledore a few weeks prior. Harry still didn’t know that he would have to die._

 _“Harry, don’t thank me for—”_

 _“No!” Harry said quickly, tightening his grip on Severus’ leg and looking up, letting his chin dig into Severus’ knee. “Don’t, don’t stop me or deny it or anything. I can trust you. I can tell you what I need to say, and you tell me the things no one else is brave enough to say, or whatever. I actually feel like maybe I have a chance because, at least I have more pieces than I did before.”_

 _Harry put his cheek back on Severus’ knee and stared into the fire._

 _“You don’t hide things from me, and I need that, I like that…I like you,” Harry said. Severus closed his eyes tightly and ran his hand through the teen’s hair, taking another sip of Firewhiskey._

 _“You’re not completely intolerable,” he mumbled. Harry giggled softly._

 

 

~*~

  
“Monday,” Kingsley repeated.

Hermione nodded. “At two thirty p.m. his time,” she said.

Kingsley looked at Ron. “Well, you were right about Southern Italy, mostly,” he said.

Ron grinned. “It’s a gift,” he said as Hermione rolled her eyes.

“So this address, where is it?” Kingsley asked.

“It’s a city center. They could be living anywhere in the city. I don’t expect him to lead us to his hangout immediately, but…we’ll be in the same location. We have contact,” Hermione said.

“And that’s all that matters right now. Okay, I’ll let the Italians know, you keep your heads and get your things together,” Kingsley said.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus sat in his chair, letting the sunshine beat down on him. The treadmill had been a success. He was able to walk small, short distances.

It was tearing Harry apart, and Severus knew it.

He sat, waiting, alternating between regretting his decision, and being proud of it. He wanted to wheel away from the area quickly. Make them think they had been sent on a wild goose chase. But this was his chance, his one chance.

Severus felt them before he saw them. People thought Harry was the strongest one of the trio. That he himself was a strong wizard was without question, but they didn’t know Granger and Weasley. Individually they were not as powerful as Potter was, but together they could hold their own well.

He glanced at the watch he had bought the other week and raised his eyebrows, impressed.

They were early.

He let them wait for a few moments. He watched as they looked around the square, trying to appear as tourists. Finally, he rolled out of the shadows he had been hiding in and moved towards them.

Ron saw him first, quickly nudging Hermione and nodding towards him. She took an excited step forward before restraining herself. Finally, Severus reached them. Hermione bit her lip nervously as he sat in front of them in silence.

“Is the potion working?” she asked. Ron rolled his eyes.

“It is. I’m almost walking around our living space on my own without too many falters,” Severus replied. Hermione sighed in relief and smiled.

“Good, that’s good to hear. I was worried, you know, when I saw you in France,” she said. Severus smirked.

“Yes, well, follow me, Harry may be sent on an errand and he may pass through this area. He knows I like to people-watch in the afternoons,” he said, carefully maneuvering to start moving toward one of the side streets. Hermione grabbed the handles of his wheelchair.

“Point the way,” she said. Severus pointed and she started pushing, Ron walking next to them.

“So, Harry doesn’t know we’re here?” Ron asked.

Severus shook his head. “Harry doesn’t know that I have a stack of _Daily Prophets_ hidden from him either,” he said.

“So you know?” Hermione asked excitedly. Severus turned slightly in his chair and glared up at her.

“No, you silly girl, I just thought it’d be fun to have two people who potentially want to turn me in to the Ministry come for a visit,” he said.

Hermione flushed. “I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“Excited, I know. It’s an easy mistake to make, left turn at the intersection,” he instructed. “No, Wimbly grabbed the newspapers Kreacher had been storing, and brought them to me when I asked.”

“Wimbly?” Ron asked.

“She’s our house-elf,” Severus said easily.

“You have two house-elves. That makes sense. I imagine Kreacher is in charge of keeping us out of trouble in England and she’s in charge of taking care of everything else,” Hermione mumbled.

“Something to that effect, but if you lose me my house-elf, do be advised you will suffer the consequences. She’s an amazing cook, and Harry doesn’t know what to make of many of the foods we find at the local marketplace,” Severus warned. Hermione smiled as Ron chuckled.

“So, do you have any questions for us?” Ron asked. Severus went silent for a moment, pointing to the right as they neared another intersection.

“The Interrogator...what happened to him?” Severus asked.

“Charged with obstructing the justice system. He was removed from his post on the Wizengamot and ordered to attend psychological services for one year, after which a sentence would be issued,” Hermione said. Severus frowned, hearing the tone that said there was more to the story than just that.

“But?” he asked. Hermione sighed, turning the corner as instructed earlier.

“He committed suicide,” Ron finished. “Before the first therapy session was even scheduled.”

Severus sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. He willed himself to not feel guilty, knowing there was nothing he could've done to stop the man. Thinking of the man’s fate, however, turned Severus’ blood cold. The idea of half the man’s soul being wrapped up in the cloak that contained nothing more than decaying hands and lips, a sea of nothingness; the irony was poetic, and yet seemed unfair as well.

“Sunshine,” Severus rasped out, opening his eyes and realizing they were still in the shadows of the building around them. “Find a patch of sunshine.”

“Where?” Hermione asked, bemused. Severus pointed ahead.

“There’s a fountain there.”

They quickly neared the fountain, and Severus relaxed as the grip of the Dementor’s hell dissipated in the rays of the sun. Hermione sat down on the edge of the fountain, next to Severus, as Ron stood nearby.

“What was it like?” she asked quietly.

“It was a sea of dark misery and agony. There was no escape from the anger and pain,” Severus whispered in response. He wrapped his arms around his chest and turned his face upwards to the sky, letting his eyes close.

“And Woodhenge?” she asked. Severus sighed, letting his face drop and his eyes open.

“It was like waking up from a very long, very bad dream,” he said. Hermione reached forward and gently squeezed Severus’ knee.

“Let us continue, there is much of the city to show you, and not much time in which to do it,” Severus said. Hermione stood and they continued walking. For a while, they spoke little, Severus pointing out important places for them to remember, and certain streets to never go down. They chatted a little on the local people as they walked by.

“Ehi! Tobias!” a man shouted. Severus waved for Hermione to stop and looked over, smirking.

“Ciao Pietro!” he called back to the man who was sitting in front of a small shop with a few other men, chessboard set up.

“Cosa stai facendo? Mi aspettavo una rivincita dall scorsa settimana!” Pietro called, motioning to the chessboard he sat at with another man sitting across from him.

“Ho dei ospiti. Ho dovuto mostrargli in giro. Ti batto di nuovo domain se sei cosi’ ansioso,” Severus replied, motioning to Ron and Hermione. The other men chuckled as Pietro waved his hand dismissively.

“Ah, è stato un colpo di fortuna! Ti faccio vedere!” Pietro replied, seeming put out. Ron snorted and grinned as Hermione looked at him questioningly.

“I don’t know the language, but I know the face of a sore loser,” Ron said quietly to her. Hermione giggled and looked back at the men playing chess.

“Quattro volte non e’ un colpo di fortuna! Se non stai attento, Umberto avra’ un colpo di fortuna anche lui! Ti sta rubando delle pedine dalla scacchiera!” Severus called, pointing at the man across from Pietro. Pietro turned back to his game and smacked the hands of the other player who was going to push pieces around while his companion wasn’t looking. The men gathered around the chessboard started to talk fast and loud and Severus rolled his eyes.

“Let’s continue,” he said.

“Friends of yours?” Hermione asked. Severus chuckled.

“Something of the sort. While Harry works in the afternoons, I explore the city. I always try to play chess with them at least once a week,” Severus replied.

“They seem…lively,” Ron said with a grin. Severus looked up at him.

“About as lively as a Weasley family gathering in which Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes are involved,” he said. Ron grinned before sobering slightly.

“How is Harry?” he asked. Severus looked forward. He pointed left for Hermione, who hummed in acknowledgement.

“Completely unaware that I am out doing this instead of playing chess,” he answered. “The streets I’m pointing out to you to avoid are the ones where you will run the risk of running into him—and thereby completely negate anything that we accomplish today.”

“He has a job, though?” Hermione asked. “What does he do?”

“He helps a woman with her souvenir store. He sweeps, dusts, fixes things, moves things around, and most important, learns the language,” Severus said.

“How come you haven’t told him you’re both innocent?” Ron asked. Severus sighed heavily.

“He doesn’t want to hear it; refuses to listen. As far as he’s concerned, England is dead, and it’s time to move on. I gave you our location because he’s ready to move on. As I get better, he gets more insistent that we leave Europe. And it’s actually quite smart of him,” Severus stated, pointing to the right.

“Smart? How?” Hermione asked.

“Think. If I did not have the _Daily Prophets_ , if I did not have your letter, I would continue on knowing nothing of my innocence. But the longer I stayed in Europe, the more likely I would be to find out, and the more I would want to know. By leaving the continent, there would be a possibility I could get wrapped up in our new life, and I would drop the country that condemned me to the Dementor’s Kiss. I would forget about it entirely,” he explained before motioning for them to stop. They were next to a long wall with a double door in the center of it.

“What’s this?” Ron asked.

“This,” Severus said, grabbing the wheels and moving forward on his own towards the door, “is a door to the Wizarding part of town.”

“It’s a bit obvious, isn’t it?” Hermione asked.

“Hardly. The wall is real. The wall is what the Muggles see. The door, however, is an illusion for wizards,” Severus explained, turning his chair so he faced Ron and Hermione. “The door tells the wizard where to lean. It’s a bit like getting onto the Hogwarts Express.”

With that, he wheeled backwards through the wall. Ron rolled his eyes.

“He’s a bit of a show off, isn’t he?” he remarked as he and Hermione quickly moved forward to follow Severus through the wall.

Hermione laughed in response as they moved through the wall.

 

 

~*~

  
“I got you a gift,” Harry murmured as he walked slowly next to Severus.

“Oh?” Severus asked. Harry nodded.

Later, sitting at the kitchen table, Severus reverently opened the box with the small handcrafted puppet inside.

“It’s Arlecchino,” Harry said softly as Severus reached forward to touch the puppet carefully.

“I know,” Severus responded. “Why the gift?”

Harry shrugged.

“The nose reminded me of you?” he teased with a grin. Severus looked up at him and rolled his eyes.

“How kind,” he drawled as Harry chuckled.

“Signora Esposito told me I could have any one thing out of the shop. I don’t know, it spoke to me,” he said. Severus hummed and looked down at the puppet.

Something told him he should feel guilty for spending the day with Ron and Hermione, for helping them find a Bed and Breakfast, and promising to meet with them again in a week. But it was only a small part of him. Severus looked up, and with all the skills he'd learned bowing at the Dark Lord’s feet, he smiled.

“Thank you, Harry.”

 

 

~*~

  
“It’s like a holiday, right?” Ron asked, tossing one of the throw pillows at Hermione, who smirked and tossed it back at him.

“Yeah, like what was supposed to be seventh year was a camping trip,” she replied sarcastically.

“Ah, no, I think this is far more like a holiday than that was a camping trip. Fewer death threats,” Ron said, tossing the pillow back at Hermione. She caught it and tossed it onto the pile of other throw pillows.

“But still, we have a purpose,” she said cautiously.

“We’ve got Snape, ‘Mione. We’ll get Harry too,” Ron said, jumping onto the bed. Hermione nodded and smiled. Ron offered his hand to her and she sighed, taking it. He tugged and pulled her into the bed quickly, and immediately started tickling her, reveling in her shrieks of laughter.

 

 

~*~

  
“Wimbly?” Severus asked the next day after Harry had left. He was walking carefully on the treadmill, Wimbly attentively watching him.

“Yes, Master Snape?”

“What are your orders regarding Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley?” he asked. Wimbly’s ears twitched.

“Not to let them into Grimmauld and not to tell them where Master Harry is,” she replied.

“And if you find out that they know where Master Harry is?” he asked. Wimbly’s ears twitched more.

“Kreacher has to tell Master Harry.”

“But does Wimbly have to?” Severus asked, coming to a stop and staring at the house-elf. It took her a few moments before she finally replied.

“Wimbly thinks that she likes Master Snape more as her Master, and Master Harry did tell Kreacher that Master Snape was just as much Master as Master Harry. So Wimbly thinks that unless Master Harry knows how to ask it of Wimbly, Wimbly won’t tell,” she said. Severus started walking slowly again.

“Good.”

 

 

~*~

  
A month had passed. Severus developed a new routine. Mondays were normal. Most of the errands Harry had to run were on Mondays, and so Severus kept busy as he always did. He watched people in the city center, browsed shops, and found quiet places to read books.

Tuesdays were for chess with Pietro and the other men. Ron joined after the first week. On Severus’ recommendation, Ron wore a hat to cover his hair, and clothing that disguised his figure. The two men never played each other, so that one could always be on the lookout for Harry passing by as he ran errands.

Thankfully, he never did.

Wednesdays were always with Hermione. Sometimes Ron would join; sometimes he went on his own adventures. Hermione, however, was like clockwork. While her fiancé had finally decided to just show up to play chess when it was convenient for him to do so, Hermione insisted on meeting Severus exactly ten minutes after Harry went back to work after lunch, and always by the same statue. Most Wednesdays they would go into the Wizarding portion of the city, comparing the differences. They would always visit the apothecary on Wednesdays as well, and pick up various odds and ends. Hermione ensured that Severus was still receiving the potions he needed from London, often Portkeying back to England on Tuesdays while Ron was out, and then Portkeying back after dropping the package off with Kreacher. The weekly apothecary visits had to be maintained in order to keep Harry from thinking Severus had a different source.

Thursdays were market days with Harry. Often Severus would see a man and a woman staring at them, watching them carefully. He would roll his eyes and scowl at them, making them turn away as he wondered how much Polyjuice the two were burning through. Sometimes, however, they wouldn’t be Polyjuiced at all, just hidden very well in plain sight. Hermione would straighten her hair on Thursdays.

On Friday, they stayed home until leaving for Signora Esposito’s home for dinner. Sometimes she had many family members over, sometimes she had none, but there was always more food than could be eaten.

Therefore on Saturdays, Severus didn’t exercise, and they spent the day lazing about, still content from the dinner of the evening before.

Sundays were always left up to the day itself. Sometimes they would go out, sometimes they would stay in; no matter what they did, however, Severus kept the coin on him at all times. With it, Severus was able to warn Hermione and Ron if Harry was going out, or staying in.

Though so much time had passed, they were still no closer to finding ways to convince Harry that they would both be welcome at home.

 

 

~*~

  
 _Severus looked up from his marking. Harry lay sprawled on the rug in front of the fire, books and homework scattered around him. His shirt had lifted slightly, as Harry's hands were above his head, and this exposed a thin line of flesh._

 _Severus allowed himself a few moments of to admire the picture that Harry made. The possibility that the boy could be his to love and live a life with, if only things were slightly different, crossed his mind._

 _The reminder of reality made Severus sigh and push away from his desk._

 _He knelt next to Harry and traced the young man’s lightning bolt scar, before cupping his face gently._

 _“Wake up, Harry,” he murmured. Harry frowned and huffed, turning his face to Severus’ hand._

 _“Hmmmm?” Harry mumbled._

 _“Wake up,” Severus repeated. Harry’s eyes opened slightly before sliding shut again._

 _“No,” Harry muttered. Severus huffed and pulled the boy up. Harry’s arms wrapped around him tightly as he sighed. Severus rolled his eyes as he lifted up and pulled Harry to his feet. The Gryffindor leaned against him heavily._

 _“Don’t let me go,” he mumbled._

 _“Never,” Severus replied, knowing that his admission was safe to the half-asleep boy in his arms._

 _“Promise?” Harry mumbled as Severus carefully maneuvered them both to the sofa._

 _“Promise,” Severus replied. Harry moaned sleepily as Severus gently laid him down on the sofa and pulled a blanket over him._

 _For a few more hours, he could pretend._

 

 

~*~

  
The holiday had messed things up. Harry scowled as he carefully moved boxes around the storeroom. He was working on a Thursday, and working through lunch on top of that, in order to make up for the missed Monday.

It wasn’t that work was the bother, but the way Severus had acted when Harry had told him he’d be going to work again. Severus had almost seemed relieved. As if there was something he had hoped to do, but had found it impossible with Harry around. Harry frowned deeply, letting the boxes down gently on the top shelf.

If he were being honest with himself, Severus had been acting strange for longer than just this morning. He’d been acting strange for several weeks now. Harry lifted another box with his wand. It wasn’t that Severus was being overt about it, but it just seemed as if something was horribly off about every conversation they had. Harry had at first thought that maybe it was his continuing insistence about looking for a home outside of Europe, and had dropped the subject, looking on his own occasionally. However, the strangeness stayed.

Harry recalled a conversation from the other night when Severus had recounted his travels during the afternoon while Harry was at work. It wasn’t that Harry thought Severus was lying, necessarily, it was just that…

Harry’s wand dropped to the floor and the boxes he was directing landed heavily on a shelf above him.

Severus was using Occlumency. He was hiding something.

With a quick twitch of his hand, Harry’s wand flew up. He caught it as Signora Esposito walked in and dragged him from his thoughts.

“Stai bene?” she asked, staring at the young man’s pale face. Harry swallowed hard and looked at her.

“Si’ sto bene. Ti serve qualcosa?” he replied, hoping the kind woman wouldn’t need much else.

“Volevo farti sapere che puoi andartene prima, se vuoi,” she responded. Harry felt his heart race. If he could leave early, that meant he could go find Severus and see what the man was really up to.

“Non ti serve nient’altro?” he asked. Signora Esposito shook her head.

“Vai, goditi il resto del pomeriggio,” she said. Harry didn’t wait.

“Grazie!” he said gratefully before exiting the shop quickly, leaving a bemused shopkeeper behind him. His feet pounded against the pavement as he raced towards the flat, and ran up the stairs.

“Severus!” he shouted as he burst through the door.

There was no response.

“Wimbly!” Harry said, changing tactics. The house-elf appeared, ear twitching.

“Yes, Master Harry?” she asked.

“Where is Severus?”

“Master Snape?” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yes! Where is he?” he asked frantically. Wimbly frowned.

“Master Snape went to go meet someone,” she replied.

“Who? Who did Master Snape go to meet?” Harry asked, looking at the wheelchair in the corner of the room. Wimbly’s ears twitched erratically before settling.

“Wimbly is not sure. Is Master Harry all right?” she asked. Harry cursed and turned, running out the door, determined to tear the city apart if he had to, in order to find Severus.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus pressed his palms to his eyes and wondered briefly if he could just wish the _Daily Prophet_ in front of him away.

“This is not acceptable, Miss Granger,” he growled.

“I know it’s not, Severus, and we’ve got Kingsley and a team of others working on it back at home,” she reassured him.

Severus opened his eyes, looking back down at the newspaper’s headline.

 _Heroes Hauled out of Hiding  
Granger and Weasley on early Honeymoon or Harry Hunt?_

The entire article focused on Ron and Hermione’s absence from the Ministry’s Gala for the anniversary of the end of the war, their family members’ refusal to answer questions about their whereabouts, and other speculations.

“If this inspires them to start looking for the two of you, and they become successful…” Severus threatened.

Ron sighed, his hand rubbing his temple soothingly. “They won’t. Hermione and I will leave if they come close. We may have gotten Harry to stop talking about moving, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t thinking about it. We’re no closer to an end result, but we’re not risking it all while we have you somewhere that’s easy to get to you,” Ron said. “America is too far away.”

“There is a team working on it in England, though?” Severus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. Hermione nodded.

“They’ll make sure the press doesn’t get anywhere close. If anything, we should use this as fuel to light the fire of us moving forward,” she reassured him. Severus pushed the newspaper towards Hermione.

“Thank you for letting me know. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to stop by the clothing shop on my way home, see if they have anything other than white,” Severus said, motioning to the white cotton shirt he wore with his black cotton trousers. Hermione smiled and grabbed Severus' cane where it leaned on the brick wall next to her. She handed it to him.

“Would you like us to walk you to the shop at least?” she asked. Severus started to answer before feeling a shiver run up his spine. He glanced over his shoulder, but seeing nothing, looked back to Hermione.

“Perhaps not today,” he said. Hermione frowned but didn’t argue.

“See you on Tuesday, Professor,” Ron said. Severus nodded to them and turned, walking slowly down the street. As he walked off, he heard Ron and Hermione gather their own things before heading off in the other direction. He rounded the corner and gasped as Harry almost ran into him. Harry blinked and grabbed Severus’ arms to keep him from falling.

“All you all right?” Harry asked quickly. Severus blinked rapidly. He was not expecting Harry to be out on the streets at this time, especially not these streets.

“I’m fine. What are you doing here?” he asked. Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“I was looking for you,” he stated. “What are you doing here?”

Severus frowned at the suspicion in his voice.

Harry looked down the street Severus had just come from. Severus glanced as well, grateful that Ron’s hat and Hermione’s hair-straightening had become everyday precautions.

“I was having lunch at that restaurant there. The owner is very nice and has interesting stories,” Severus replied, letting the fact that Ron and Hermione had joined him remain unsaid.

“So you just talked to the owner?” Harry asked, looking back at Severus.

“Well, I spoke to the waitress and a few other regular patrons, including the cat who sits outside the front door as well. What has got you so worked up?” Severus asked. Harry shook his head.

“Nothing, nothing I just thought…never mind,” Harry mumbled.

Severus quirked an eyebrow. “Afraid I’ve run off with a new paramour?” he asked sarcastically.

Harry scowled at him. “Well, how am I supposed to know what you do with your days? And you’ve been hiding something from me lately, I know it,” he responded. Severus rolled his eyes and started walking down the path he had originally set for himself.

“I can hardly walk faster than a snail, I highly doubt too many people find that attractive,” Severus said.

“But you’re hiding something from me?” Harry asked insistently, trying not to outrun Severus with his faster, steadier walking pace. Severus stopped and leaned heavily on his cane.

“Yes, Harry, I am hiding something. I’m hiding how much I truly despise not being able to walk as fast as I once did, and I’m hiding how much I loathe the idea of moving out of Europe. What else is there for me to hide from you?” he asked.

Harry’s scowl turned into a frown. “A new paramour,” he mumbled, looking down at his feet, seeming to not know what else Severus could be hiding. Severus rolled his eyes.

“You’ll probably be the only one in this century that’s infatuated with me, trust me, there are not many people throwing themselves at me, Mr. Potter,” Severus said.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t throwing yourself at them,” Harry said angrily, looking back up at Severus. Severus quirked an eyebrow, knowing how much it infuriated the younger man that he could stay so calm while Harry was so angry.

“I promise you, no one holds my attention the way you do, Harry. Now can we please go to the clothing shop and then home before my legs give out on me?” he asked. Harry sighed and nodded, seeming to sense that Severus wasn’t strong enough to stand and argue.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry mumbled. Severus held out his arm, and Harry took it, helping the man support himself in walking without his cane. Severus leaned closer to him as they strolled along.

“I’ve been distant,” Severus murmured. Harry grunted in agreement. “I’m going slightly stir-crazy, Harry. Even if we move, I'll still need more recovery time before I can figure out what I'm going to do to fill my days, other than sit around. I’m a man used to doing things.”

“I’ll stop looking for houses in America,” Harry mumbled. “At least until you’re ready.”

Severus felt a small bit of triumph.

“We’re safe here. And…what was Signora Esposito’s granddaughter’s friend’s name?” Severus asked.

“Agnese?”

“Yes! Agnese would be so disappointed if you left,” he teased. Harry rolled his eyes.

“I think she’s the only one who hasn’t realized we aren’t related,” he said with a laugh. Severus smiled as they crossed the street.

 

 

~*~

  
“Thankfully we were able to pull some strings. As far as the press is concerned, the two of you are in France,” Kingsley said. Hermione nodded, fingering the Portkey in her hand.

“That’s convenient. If one or both of us actually has to go to France, just let me know,” she said.

“We’ll see. Right now it’s all about damage control. I’m assuming you’re using some kind of disguise when you go to Slug and Jitters?” Kingsley asked.

“The first time I didn’t, but that’s months back now. I just use simple glamours to not attract attention to my buying a rather odd potion,” Hermione said.

“That’s good. Well, are we any closer to getting him home?” he asked. Hermione twisted her face and shook her head.

“We’ve got him staying in Sicily for the time being, but none of us can figure out a way to get him to realize he’s innocent—and welcome—back here. He almost ran into Severus with me and Ron the other day. Honestly I’m beginning to think such a run-in might be the only way,” she said with a sigh.

“Well, your time in Italy has been extended to the end of summer for now. So…you have time, but it is by no means unlimited,” Kingsley said.

“Of course, we’ll find a way. Severus is itching to be back home,” she said.

Kingsley smirked. “Wasn’t his name Snape not too long ago?” he asked, eyebrow quirked.

Hermione smiled. “Severus is a good man. He deserves his innocence.”

“That’s why we’re here, Miss Granger, now go on. Get your potion from Diagon and get out of here,” Kingsley said, waving Hermione off. Hermione grinned and headed towards the door to his office.

“Oh, and Miss Granger?” he said. Hermione stopped and turned around.

“Yes, Minister?”

“Don’t let Mr. Potter catch you quite yet. He has a tendency to do rash and reckless things when frightened,” he said, a serious look on his face. Hermione smiled.

“Not to worry, sir. We’ve got an alternate plan we’re working out the details on,” she said. Kingsley nodded and watched as Hermione disappeared out the door.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry woke up with a yawn and stretched out in his bed. He kicked the covers off himself. It had been a week since he had chased down Severus, and though things had seemed to cool down back to normal, there was still something there. Something Harry couldn’t put a finger on. He was pretty sure Severus did not have a new paramour, and was positive that the man was incredibly reluctant to leave Europe, but Harry had a feeling that there was something else he was missing. He sat up on the edge of the bed and massaged his left leg before convincing himself to stand. Quietly he moved out of his room and to the bathroom, pausing only briefly by Severus’ door to listen to the other man in his sleep.

He showered quickly, making up his mind to leave the flat before Severus woke up. He needed some time outside of the flat that wasn't for work and left him on his own. He needed fresh air and time to think.

Dressed, Harry quickly scribbled a note and tacked it to the bathroom door for Severus to see.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione placed the coin in her purse before going to double-check her straight hair in the mirror. She frowned and tugged on it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, but she didn’t feel like herself, having the straight hair every day. She knew Ron missed her wild curls too sometimes.

It was only for a little while longer though.

She walked out of the bathroom and grabbed her purse from the table, before turning to where Ron lay snoring on the bed. Rolling her eyes, she moved to wake him enough to let him know she was going out, not realizing her purse handle had gotten hooked on the chair’s armrest.

With a yelp from Hermione, the contents of her purse clattered onto the floor. Ron grunted and shifted as Hermione quickly knelt to shove everything back in.

“What’s that?” he mumbled, opening his eyes slightly to look at her.

“Sorry, I dropped my things. I’m going to go out,” she said, quickly grabbing the last tube of lipstick and shoving it in her purse.

“Where you going?” he asked as she straightened up and moved toward the bed.

“Just going to go get some fresh air,” she replied. Ron smiled and reached out for her lazily. She leaned in close and kissed his forehead.

“Get some sleep, love, I’ll be back,” she murmured. Ron hummed and nodded, letting his eyes slide shut as Hermione pulled away. She grabbed a pair of sunglasses and walked out the door.

The coin lay just underneath the bed.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus woke with a start, frowning as the vestiges of his dream left him. With a sigh, he heaved himself into a sitting position, pulling his legs up. He pulled them close to his chest and tensed his muscles before letting them relax. He straightened them out and moved off the bed, holding his hand out for his cane. It flew from the corner into his hand and he carefully stood. Letting himself get used to it for a moment, Severus walked out of his room and looked around.

Harry’s bedroom door was open, but there were no sounds coming from the kitchen or bathroom.

“Harry?” he called, peering down into the common area. At no response, Severus moved to the other man’s room.

“Harry?” he asked again. There was no sign of him though, so Severus moved to the bathroom, finally noticing a piece of paper that had fallen to the floor. With a frown, Severus picked it up.

 _Sev,_  
Gone out for fresh air, home soon.  
-Harry

With a sigh, Severus moved slowly back to his room and pulled out the coin from his bedside table. Grabbing his wand as well, he sent word to Ron and Hermione.

 

 

~*~

  
Ron groaned and stretched before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

He could never fall back asleep after Hermione left, no matter how tired he was. He stood and stretched up towards the ceiling before turning to the bed to straighten the covers. As he moved forward slightly, his foot went under the bed and stepped on something incredibly hot.

Ron yelped and jumped back, banging his foot on the metal frame, and cursing.

“What the bloody hell was that?” he shouted before looking down underneath the bed. His eyes widened as he recognized the coin. He reached forward, glad to see it had cooled off since the contact with his foot. He grabbed it and pulled it towards him. As he read the small letters, he cursed and turned, ignoring the bed and searching desperately for a clean pair of trousers.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry walked along the streets with no purpose, lost in his thoughts. He enjoyed having some time to appreciate the city he was in by himself. His stomach rumbled and he hummed, looking around for some place to eat. Spotting a small café with tables outside, he moved towards it.

He sat down outside, and thanked the waitress who greeted him. Slowly he let his eyes wander around the patrons as he took in his surroundings. He needed this. He felt relaxed.

Hermione looked away from where Harry sat next to her and quickly shoved her sunglasses on. One hand shielding her face from Harry, the other one searched desperately in her purse for the coin. Realizing it must have fallen out earlier, she grabbed some money and tossed it on the table, before getting up quickly. The motion made her purse fall to the ground unnoticed as she quickly tried to get away.

Harry frowned as he watched the woman hurriedly walk off, before noticing the small bag she left behind. He jumped up quickly.

“Miss!” he shouted. “Signora!”

He grabbed the purse and started to follow the woman who was walking very quickly.

“Signora! Your purse! La tua borsa! Miss!” he called, picking up his pace.

Hermione walked faster, her heart pounding in her chest, Kingsley’s words ringing in her ears. She didn’t even have Polyjuice in her bag; how stupid could she have been! She glanced over her shoulder and saw Harry coming towards her, holding her purse up.

Someone tried to stop her, to turn her around to show her Harry shouting after her. She pushed them away and took off at a run.

Harry cursed.

“SIGNORA!” he roared, running after her. Hermione glanced behind her again and missed the uneven stone in the road, tripping over it and sprawling across the ground. Her sunglasses had flown off and landed inches away from her. Hermione grimaced in pain and tried to reach for the eyewear as she sensed Harry slow down behind her.

“Signora! Stai bene?” Harry asked, reaching for her. Hermione caught a glimpse of Ron across the road, gripping a bottle that she knew held Polyjuice Potion. She closed her eyes as Harry gently grasped her shoulder and turned her to face him.

The purse dropped to the ground.

Hermione’s brown eyes met Harry’s green ones for a split second as Harry backed off slowly.

Ron ran forward, his bright red hair hidden underneath the cap, but his face unmistakable. Hermione grabbed her purse and the sunglasses, pushing herself up quickly as Harry took a few shaky steps backwards. Hermione didn’t look at Harry as she shoved the sunglasses back on and raced towards Ron, grabbing his arm. They quickly moved down the street, not saying a word to Harry, who stood frozen to the spot.

His thoughts raced as he heard people approach him and ask if he was all right, and what had happened.

He had to get home, he had to get all of their things, he had to tell Severus.

Harry’s eyes narrowed.

Severus, Severus already knew Ron and Hermione were in town.

Without a word, Harry whirled on his heels and ran as fast as he could towards the flat.

 

 

~*~

  
The door flew open. Severus sat in his wheelchair, waiting for it.

“When the hell were you going to tell me?” Harry shouted. Severus glared and pointed at the kitchen table, where the _Daily Prophets_ were all sorted out.

“Read,” he said quietly.

“Oh what? They brought you fake papers so you would believe them?” Harry yelled. Severus did not move.

“No. Your house-elves have been stockpiling them, hoping that one day you’d change your mind. Now sit down and read,” he replied.

“Oh, and then you thought to go contact them behind my back! I will not read this trash!” Harry screamed, waving his hand towards the newspapers. Irrational anger gripped him, the same anger that he had felt before setting off the chain of events that led to Severus regaining his magic.

“No! I contacted them after they sent me the potion I needed to heal—with no strings or Portkeys attached. Just a simple way to contact them if I needed to! Where do you think Kreacher has been getting your potions and even some of your food for the last year? They’ve been giving it to him to give to you!” Severus shouted back, before pushing himself up. He stalked towards Harry with sure, confident feet. “Now you are going to sit down, shut up, and read your damn newspapers!”

Tears were in Harry’s eyes as he pushed Severus away and headed to the kitchen table. His eyes scanned the headlines.

“Read the articles, Harry,” Severus said quietly.

“It’s all lies,” Harry grumbled.

“Then why haven’t they dragged us, screaming, back to England? They’ve had plenty of chances,” Severus replied.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione was curled up in Ron’s lap, sniffling. Ron watched the coin avidly, reaching forward when it glowed.

“They’re still in Sicily,” he murmured, reading the coin. Hermione let out a choked sob.

“We almost lost them again, and it’s all my fault,” she whispered. Ron rubbed her back soothingly.

“Hush, love, we haven’t lost them yet. Mistakes happen,” he reassured her. Hermione clenched her bloodshot eyes closed tighter and leaned into her fiancé. Ron placed a kiss on her temple.

“It’s going to be okay.”

 

 

~*~

  
Harry started when the stack of newspapers he had already read disappeared, and was replaced by a plate of steaming food. He looked up as Severus sat down at the table across from him, his eyes bloodshot.

“Eat,” Severus instructed. Harry picked up his fork, stabbing at the food.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he mumbled around a mouthful. Severus frowned.

“It changes a lot of things,” he replied.

“I’m still not going back to England,” Harry snapped, glaring at Severus.

Severus sighed. “But you don’t have to leave Europe. You don’t have to leave and ignore your friends and family,” he said calmly.

Harry looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered.

“Eat your food and finish reading,” Severus said, standing up. Harry watched him.

“Where’s your cane?” he asked quietly. Severus blinked and looked down at his empty hand before looking back at Harry.

“I hadn’t even realized.”

 

 

~*~

  
The weekend passed quietly. Harry barely spoke to Severus, barely looked at Severus. On Friday when they went to Signora Esposito’s home for dinner, the woman pulled Severus aside.

“Sta bene?” she asked. Severus looked over to Harry.

“Alcuni amici da casa sono arrivati, e vogliono che noi ritorniamo, e lui non era pronto per questo,” he summarized. It was a cheap way to explain the events with Hermione and Ron, but it was something.

“Dagli tempo. Lascigli fare le sue scelte. Non spaventarlo,” Signora Esposito advised. Severus nodded. Time he could give Harry, though he wasn’t sure that Ron and Hermione would be as flexible. However, Severus was afraid he might have already scared Harry off far more than he intended.

On Monday, Harry left for work without a word, and Severus sighed, wondering how long it would take for the boy to finally snap.

 

 

~*~

  
Hermione turned the corner. It had been two weeks. Two long weeks since she'd got caught by Harry. While Severus and Ron both reassured her that it was probably the best thing they had done to get Harry to open his eyes to the truth, she still felt guilty. Harry hadn’t reached out to her, or Ron, and apparently was barely speaking to Severus.

“He’s mumbling to himself again,” Severus had said the day before. Ron frowned.

“Mumbling?”

“Yes. From what I can figure, he talked to himself before, acted out conversations in his head when he had no other human interaction. He’s reverted back to that habit,” Severus replied.

“Maybe it’s some kind of coping mechanism,” Ron had suggested with a shrug.

Hermione sighed, turning another corner, so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize where she was when a horrible stench hit her nose. With a frown, Hermione looked up.

She had apparently turned too early and instead of going down the street, she had gone into a dark, rubbish-filled alley. She turned and looked back out into the street, realizing she didn’t recognize any of the buildings across from her.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Hermione Granger?” she muttered, moving to head back to the street.

A hand grabbed her and stopped her. Hermione felt her veins freeze as she looked up at the young man who had taken hold of her. His eyes and hair were dark; he was lean and tall.

“Dove stai andando, signorina?” he asked, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Non parlo italiano.”

The boy chuckled and Hermione looked behind her as she heard two answering laughs. Two other boys appeared from behind a pile of rubbish, advancing towards Hermione and her captor.

“Oh guarda, una piccolo bambola inglese si e’ persa,” her captor snarled. Hermione looked back at him, her heart pounding. She felt her magic build up and could almost see the lime green burst going up the boy’s arm, sending stings of warning pain.

“I’m warning you,” she said quietly. “You had better let go of me.”

“Oh, anche una strega! Questo sara’ divertente!” the captor laughed, the others joining with him. Hermione pulled on her arm frantically.

“Let go of me!” she shouted, before the boy pulled her painfully close to him. His breath was rancid and she choked as he breathed in her face.

“Scream girl, scream,” he hissed with a heavy accent. She felt the Silencing Charm settle around the alley and she shouted loudly as the other boys came up close.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry had been following Hermione.

He wasn’t sure why he was following her, but he felt like it was something that he had to do. He had to know she wasn’t sneaking around and talking to hidden accomplices intent on taking Harry and Severus home.

A small part of him recognized that all he really wanted was to see his friend, but he shoved that part to a quiet corner of his mind and ignored it.

He had stayed well enough behind her to not risk detection, but it meant that he often lost her at some of the intersections for a few moments.

When he came to the empty alley that he had sworn she had turned down, he frowned.

Why would Hermione go down an empty rubbishy alley?

And where was she now? He hadn’t seen her leave the alley.

Harry frowned deeply. Something was off. Had she Apparated away? Was one of the doors really a front for a secret meeting place? With a sigh, Harry stepped forward, immediately recognizing the ripple of magic disguising the alley.

Eyes widening, Harry felt the Elder Wand fly into his flexing hand, and he immediately dismantled the wards.

Hermione had both hands pinned behind her back by one boy. She was kicking wildly at two others who were holding her wand and purse.

“Fai un’incantesimo e falla calmare!” the boy holding Hermione shouted.

“Non me lo ricordo!” the boy holding her wand cried. At that moment, Hermione was able to lift her foot and kick directly into her captor’s groin. He cursed and shouted, throwing her against one of the alley walls. Her head hit the wall with a sickening thud.

Harry shouted and moved his arm up in a slashing movement, sending all three boys to the far wall of the alleyway. He flicked his wand again and Hermione’s soared into his hands. He moved to her side quickly.

“’Mione? Hermione, are you all right?” he asked. Hermione groaned and clutched at her head.

“Harry,” she muttered. Harry looked up as he heard the boys stirring at the other end of the alley. He shoved Hermione’s wand at her.

“Take this, Hermione, c’mon, take your wand,” he hissed. She grabbed it, opening her eyes slightly and then immediately clenching them shut.

“Bloody hell, Harry,” she groaned. Harry smirked at her before looking at the boys who had started to stand.

“You hang out with Ron too much,” he mumbled, standing and stalking towards the boys.

All three had stood up and looked to be ready to take Harry on at the same time.

“Oh don’t be such idiots,” Harry grumbled. “Allontanatevi!”

“Vaffanculo!” one of the boys shouted in response.

“Vieni e prova a prenderci!” another shouted. The third pulled out what seemed to be a very old wand and pointed it at Harry.

“ _Expelliar—”_

Harry flicked his wand before the boy could finish the spell. The boy’s wand was pulled from his hands and went flying upwards and towards Harry. Harry caught it in his free hand and tossed it to the ground, stepping on it hard and relishing the boy's pale face as it snapped.

The boys all looked at each other before rushing at Harry, in an attempt to escape. With a flick of his wand, they were flying towards each other, and ropes were binding them. Soon they all sat, bound and gagged on the ground. Harry moved towards them.

“Abbiamo appena finite una Guerra in Inghilterra,” Harry said. “Mai bisticciare con un soldato.”

He straightened and walked towards Hermione, who had managed to push herself up to stand, leaning against the wall.

“What’d you say to them?” she mumbled as Harry picked up her purse from the ground before stopping next to her. She wrapped an arm easily around his shoulders and leaned against him heavily as they walked out of the alley.

“Told them that it’s stupid to pick fights with people who killed Dark Wizards,” Harry paraphrased. Hermione laughed weakly before groaning and lifting a hand to her head.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “I didn’t think he’d throw me that hard, there’d be no way I would’ve been able to fight back after he got over the pain of my foot in his groin.” Harry laughed and turned his head, pressing a light kiss to her temple without thinking.

“What are you doing in a dark alley anyway? I thought you were the clever one,” he teased. Hermione groaned again.

“I got lost. I was wrapped up in my thoughts and must’ve taken a wrong turn. To tell the truth, I’ve no idea where we are now. I think this is one of those roads Severus told us to avoid,” she mumbled, her eyes dropping.

“Come on, you, stay awake and moving,” Harry said, bumping her hip with his. Hermione groaned and lifted her hand away from her head for a brief moment. Harry bit his lips as he saw the red blood covering it before she put it back to her head.

“Severus told you to stay away from certain roads?” he asked casually.

“Didn’t want us finding you,” she mumbled.

“Hermione, where is the coin?” Harry asked, guessing that she had made variations of the DA coin to communicate with Severus.

“In my purse.”

Harry stopped and opened her purse.

“ _Accio fake galleon_ ,” he said. The coin flew out and Harry grabbed it. He pressed his wand to it, still managing to keep Hermione propped up.

 

 

~*~

  
 _Prepare healing potions, be there soon – Harry_

Severus stared down the stairs that led to the street, foot tapping. He hadn’t known what to think when the coin burned with its message, but he'd quickly done as instructed. Now he waited.

“Severus!” came Harry’s voice. Severus went down the stairs as fast as he could as the man came into sight, dragging Hermione with him. “She’s breathing. She only fell unconscious a little while ago. I tried to keep her talking.”

“What happened?” Severus asked, grabbing Hermione’s other side. Together the two carefully made their way up the stairs.

“A group of boys tried to rob her, I…I happened to be nearby,” Harry said, panting.

“Wimbly!” Severus called; Wimbly poked her head out the door and squeaked.

“Wimbly is setting up a space for Miss Granger!” she called down, disappearing behind the door as they struggled up the stairs.

“Where’s Ron?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know what he does when he’s not with me. Perhaps playing chess street side with Pietro,” Severus growled as they neared the top. As they settled on the landing, Harry pushed Hermione towards Severus.

“You got her?” he asked. Severus nodded, ignoring the small shake in his legs. Harry pulled out his wand and conjured his Patronus.

“Mr. Weasley is very likely with Muggles,” he growled. Harry huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be seen by Muggles, find Ron, bring him here, now!” Harry said quickly. The stag tossed its head and disappeared. Severus rolled his eyes and dragged Hermione inside.

 

 

~*~

  
 _There was blood everywhere. Harry felt sick as he watched it leak from the dummy and to the ground._

 _“That, Mr. Potter, is why we don't use spells for which we don't know the effects,” Severus growled, crossing his arms tightly against his chest. Harry turned around from the fake blood and nodded._

 _“You will bring me your Potions book immediately,” Severus instructed. Harry’s head shot up._

 _“My Potions book?” he asked. Severus rolled his eyes._

 _“I am the Half-Blood Prince, Potter. That spell is my own. You’re lucky you tried to use it on me, who knows how to deflect it, rather than somebody else,” he responded. Harry’s eyes widened._

 _“I almost killed you,” Harry muttered._

 _“You tried to get me out of your head. A violent approach, but an approach nonetheless. Go get your Potions book,” Severus said._

 _“No!” Harry responded vehemently, looking up at his professor._

 _“Excuse me?” Severus asked. Harry’s eyes narrowed._

 _“No, I’ve learned more about potions from that book than I ever did in…five years of listening to you. I’m keeping it. I won’t use the spells anymore, I promise,” he said. “Besides, I already know the spells. What will taking the book away do?”_

 _“It’s cheating, Potter,” Severus growled._

 _“I like to think of it as using a more updated edition. I’m learning things, practical things,” Harry responded before glancing back at the bleeding dummy. “Can you make it stop?”_

 _Severus sighed and walked to the dummy and pulled out his wand. As he healed the wound, he thought of different ways to get his Potions book back from Harry._

 _“It’s my book,” Severus grumbled._

 _“Not originally, it’s way older than you,” Harry responded, watching as Severus healed the dummy, reveling in the almost singsong quality of the incantation. As Severus finished he looked back at Harry._

 _“It was my mother’s book,” Severus said._

 _Harry’s eyes weren’t focused, however. Instead, he stared at where the pool of blood had been._

 _“Is Voldemort’s blood red?” he murmured. The question struck Severus suddenly and he gasped._

 _“I beg your pardon?”_

 _Harry looked up at Severus. “Is it red? Is his blood red like mine?”_

 _“I don’t know, I don’t know if creating a Horcrux changes your blood,” Severus responded._

 _“Maybe I’ll use your spell on him,” Harry mumbled, looking back to where the blood had sat. There was a faint trace of the red, and Severus sighed as he stared at the boy._

 

 

~*~

  
There was a pounding at the door. Severus got up and pulled it open. Ron stood there, looking confused.

“Snape, why—" Ron trailed off as he saw Hermione lying in the middle of the living room on a makeshift bed. Harry sat by her side, running his fingers through her hair. Ron pushed Severus aside, making the man grimace, and ran to his fiancée.

“What happened?” Ron asked, sinking into a chair on the other side of Hermione and grabbing her left hand, kissing where his ring rested on her finger.

“Some punks tried to rob her in an alleyway. She wasn’t aware of her surroundings and they took advantage. She’s alive, and stable, and not bleeding anymore, but she hasn’t woken up,” Harry mumbled. Ron groaned and leaned forward, resting his head on Hermione’s shoulder.

“She will though, right?” he asked, his voice muffled. Harry took in a breath and looked up at Severus.

“She will,” Wimbly replied from the kitchen, putting together a meal. The three men turned and looked at her. She blinked, ears twitching.

“If Master Snape can wake up, Miss Granger will wake up too,” she said, determined, before turning back to the stove.

As they gathered around the kitchen table later to eat, still waiting for Hermione to wake up, Harry glanced at Ron.

“Your ring?” Harry asked. Ron nodded. “Good choice, Weasley.”

“Would’ve been better had I had my best mate around, took me hours to find the bloody thing,” Ron replied, looking at Harry. Harry felt his stomach churn and he looked down at his plate.

“When’d you get hitched?” he asked.

“We haven’t. We were waiting for you to come home and be best man, Potter,” Ron replied casually. Harry looked up.

“Were waiting?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged and looked at Hermione. “We got here, and she decided if we can’t convince you this time, we won’t ever be able to. So we set the date for October,” he replied. Severus watched in casual fascination as the two men talked. He hadn’t realized the wedding had been given a date.

“And if I don’t agree to go back?” Harry asked. Ron sighed heavily and looked at Harry.

“I’m not going to force you. I don’t understand it and I don’t like it. I think you’re being foolish and selfish. And while yeah, you deserve to be a little selfish, considering the shitty life you’ve had up ‘til now, there are a lot of people at home who love you, and want to know you’re okay, and want to help you. So I’ll go without a best man, there’ll be a hole. And one day, I’ll get over it,” Ron replied. Severus had never heard the boy speak so eloquently and he smirked. The world, it appeared, had apparently ended while he had been gone. This was a strange after-place, where Ron Weasley was a grown up, and Severus lived in Sicily.

Hermione woke a few hours later. Ron crawled onto the makeshift bed with her and let her rest against him as Severus asked questions. Harry stood back with his arms crossed.

“What is your name?” Severus asked, sitting in a chair next to her.

“Hermione Jane Granger.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two.”

“What is my name?”

“Severus Snape.”

“Where are you currently?”

“Sicily.”

“Why?”

“To find Harry, which I have now done twice, both times by accident,” Hermione said.

“What do you remember last?”

Hermione frowned and closed her eyes.

“I was being robbed, and then I kicked the boy in the groin….I don’t remember much but…Harry shoved my wand in my hand, and I tried to stand up,” she said. Severus looked at Harry who shrugged.

“She doesn’t remember me putting them in their places and getting her here,” Harry said.

“That’s to be expected,” Severus replied before looking back at Hermione. “How do you feel?”

“A bit of a headache…but I’m all right,” she said, smiling up at Ron. Severus plucked a vial from the bedside table and handed it to Hermione.

“Take this,” he said. She did obediently, making a face at the taste. She blinked a few times and sighed.

“There it goes,” she groaned appreciatively, causing Ron to chuckle. Hermione looked over to Harry and smiled at him.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said quietly.

Harry shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got a bit of a saving people thing,” he replied. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron and Severus continued to check over Hermione. Harry quietly slipped into his room. Hearing the door close, Severus looked up at Hermione.

“It’s a start,” Severus murmured. Hermione nodded.

“We’ll leave as soon as you think I’m ready. No need to push it,” she murmured.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus had never realized how much of a relief it would be to no longer have to sneak around Harry to meet with Ron and Hermione. He wasn’t sure if it was his distaste of having to go back to spying techniques that made the relief greater, or if it was that Harry was starting to come back.

He looked up as Harry and Hermione approached the table, laughing. Ron shook his head.

“What do you think they do together on Thursdays before joining us?” he asked. Severus shook his head.

“I don’t think I want to know,” Severus replied. Ron laughed as the two approached the table, Hermione squeezed Harry’s hand before going to hug her fiancé as Harry slipped into the chair next to Severus.

“Hey,” he said. Severus raised an eyebrow in return, smirking as Harry rolled his eyes. It had been over a month since Hermione’s incident in the alleyway, and things had never been better.

“What did you two get up to today?” Severus asked casually.

“Oh no, Harry! Don’t answer that!” she replied quickly. Harry grinned as the waitress stepped up to the table.

“Let’s order,” Harry said.

The food had been laid out in front of them. As they ate, they chatted amicably, sharing stories and current events in both England and Italy. Severus was impressed to see that Harry had finally stopped closing down at the mention of England.

“So what did they do with all the trees?” Harry asked. Hermione grinned and shook her head.

“I don’t think they’ve even decided yet. They’ve closed the whole area off. The official story to the Muggles is that there’s an excavation project underway to determine additional details, but…There’s still giant trees just sitting there,” she said. Harry chuckled.

“Let that be my legend, then: Harry Potter, the Boy who Gave the Department of Mysteries a Headache,” he said. They laughed before Ron took a sip of his water and cleared his throat.

“Hermione and I are leaving for home in two weeks,” he announced. Hermione bit her lip and looked down at her plate. Severus said nothing and watched as Harry looked up at his friends.

“What?” he asked, bemused; the laughter that had been dancing on his face earlier quickly disappeared. Hermione nodded.

“We need to go home,” she said before looking up with a smile. “I have a wedding to prepare for.”

“It’s…it’s two months away,” Harry said. Hermione laughed.

“Have you met Molly Weasley? It takes time to plan a wedding, Mr. Potter! If it weren’t for the fact that we were searching for you, she would’ve had me home three months ago to plan,” she replied. Harry’s face fell and he looked down at his plate, pushing his food around aimlessly.

Severus didn’t think about what he was doing: he merely reached under the table for Harry’s hand and squeezed it. Harry glanced up at him and smiled, lacing his fingers in Severus’ own before looking back up at Ron.

“I guess I just didn’t realize you guys would be leaving us so soon,” he mumbled.

“You can come with us. I still need a best man,” Ron said. Harry’s fingers tensed under the table.

“Or you can wait a few more weeks,” Hermione added quickly, seeing the tension in Harry’s face. “Help Signora Esposito find someone else to help her out.”

“I…I don’t know,” Harry mumbled. Finally, Severus looked up and took a breath.

“What if we came just for the wedding? Maybe for a week or two before, and then leave a day or two after the festivities?” he suggested.

The three had rehearsed this conversation since before Harry knew Hermione and Ron were in town. Every time there had been a different twist, they threw out different possible responses to each suggestion. Now that it was happening, it seemed that the world was grinding to a halt to see which scenario would play out.

Harry looked to Severus, who squeezed his hand lightly in response.

“I don’t…I don’t know. How big is it going to be?” Harry asked. Hermione laughed.

“It _is_ a Weasley wedding,” she mumbled before taking a sip of water. Ron shot a look at her.

“Are you saying my family is too big?” Ron asked.

“No, dear, I’m just saying your family doesn't know how to narrow down wedding invites to the important people, and just announcements to the non-important ones.” she said lightly, sticking her tongue out as she finished. Ron grinned.

“Yeah, well…” he said with a shrug.

“Let me think about it, okay?” Harry said quickly. They looked at him and nodded.

“Take your time, Harry,” Hermione said. “But not too long, because the wedding is in October and you’ll need to be at the rehearsal dinner if you’re going to be best man.”

 

 

~*~

  
“Are you okay?” Severus whispered into the dark room later. Harry turned in his bed and stared at the door where Severus stood, silhouetted.

“I don’t know what to do,” he murmured. Severus entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Harry looked up at him, his glasses still firmly on his face.

“What do you want to do?” Severus asked, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair away from Harry’s forehead.

“Convince you to curl up in this bed with me and never leave,” Harry replied with a sigh. Severus smirked and huffed loudly, lying next to Harry.

“We are going to have leave for the bathroom and food eventually, Mr. Potter,” he said patiently as Harry scooted close to him and used his chest as a pillow.

“But not yet,” Harry replied.

“No, not yet,” Severus agreed.

“Ron was my first best friend…and Hermione is my sister,” Harry mumbled. Severus hummed quietly.

“I want to be there for them,” Harry continued. “And I do kind of want to see a few other people but…I don’t want to stay. I don’t want them to keep me there forever.”

“No one will force you to stay there,” Severus said.

“But you want to stay there,” Harry replied. Severus closed his eyes and nodded.

“I do,” he said honestly.

“So would you stay while I left?” Harry asked. Severus stayed silent for a few moments, considering his answer carefully.

“I have ninety years to convince you to return to England, Mr. Potter, and I made a promise to stay with you. Unless you tire of me, I intend to keep that promise,” he replied.

“I feel like I should have butterflies when I’m around you,” Harry said suddenly. Severus frowned and looked down at the man pillowed on his chest.

“You don’t?” he asked.

“I used to…but I don’t anymore,” Harry said thoughtfully. Severus swallowed hard, wondering what that was supposed to mean. “Instead I feel…I just feel warm.”

“You feel warm?” Severus asked.

“Yeah, like…I don’t feel nervous, I just feel safe,” Harry replied. Severus rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the upward curve of his lips.

“Is safe good?” he asked.

“Safe is really good,” Harry responded.

 

 

~*~

  
 _Harry was shaking. Severus grabbed his hands and looked at him._

 _“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, as they stood in the front hallway of Grimmauld._

 _“I don’t want to lose you,” Harry replied, fear in his eyes._

 _“You won’t lose me,” Severus said._

 _“But if they take you to Azkaban—“ Severus raised his hand to stop Harry from talking._

 _“They can’t take me away from you forever,” he whispered, moving his hand to Harry’s heart. “Don’t ever forget that.”_

 _Harry nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Severus leaned forward and captured Harry’s lips with his own. Harry leaned into the kiss desperately, moaning as Severus pulled away._

 _“Let me be nervous, I’m the one on trial,” Severus said. Harry smiled weakly, before hugging him tightly._

 

 

~*~

  
“We made the shed a guest house, just for the wedding. Took a bit of finagling, but between this and the tents, we’re hoping to have enough room for everyone!” Molly chattered as she opened the door.

“I don’t remember the shed being this big,” Harry said with a laugh, looking around the small room with two comfortable armchairs and a small fireplace. There were also two doors leading into two more rooms. Molly smiled brightly at her adopted son.

“Well, that is the power of magic, dear,” she said. Harry saw a thin line of bright pink in the cracks between two boards.

“Who did this again?” he asked, watching the pink line dance and crackle.

“Arthur did, dear,” Molly said. Harry grinned.

“Of course,” he said. Severus looked at Harry and then at the trace of magic, arching an eyebrow, but he left the question for later.

“Now, there are two beds in the bedroom here. I didn’t know what the two of you wanted, so if you shove them together, there’s a charm that’ll link them and the sheets automatically. And the bathroom is here, dears,” she explained, looking at them with a knowing look. Harry blushed as Severus smirked.

“Two beds is perfect, thank you, Molly,” Severus said. Harry looked up at her with a grin.

“Yeah…thank you…for everything,” Harry said. Molly’s face softened as she looked at Harry, before she reached forward and pulled him into a big hug.

“I’m so glad you’re home. Even if it is only for the wedding. I’ve missed you,” she murmured. Harry smiled and hugged her tightly.

“I’ve missed you too,” he mumbled before she let go of him, and turned to Severus.

“And to see you alive and well!” she cried, pulling him into a hug as well. Severus’ eyes went wide as Harry slapped a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing. Severus patted Molly’s back awkwardly.

“Yes…thank you,” he said. Molly pulled away and patted Severus' cheek.

“Dinner is at six!” she said briskly before bustling out the door. Harry grinned at Severus, who scowled in return.

As they unpacked their bags, Severus looked at Harry. "Since when can you see magic?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. “When you were getting your magic back, you were surrounded by this dark blue glow. Wimbly explained it to me and now…I just see it everywhere. It’s kind of cool. I didn’t know you could actually see magic,” he said.

“Yes, well, a lot of magical theory is unfortunately left out of Hogwarts in order to impart the rudimentary skills needed to survive,” Severus replied.

“Or in my case, as long as you defeated the bad guys in the end, nobody except the nasty Potions professor cares if you were sleeping or awake in their class,” Harry said. Severus glared at him.

“Yes, well, even in the end you found a way to get around that with a stolen book from said nasty Potions professor,” he said.

“Doesn’t count as stealing if it was in the cupboard for students to borrow,” Harry said.

“And in your second and fourth years? Boomslang skin and gillyweed?” he asked. Harry laughed.

“It's high time I inform you that while the Boomslang was used in a Polyjuice that I did actually drink, and the gillyweed was used in the Triwizard Tournament—I stole neither one of them. You can blame Hermione and the late Dobby, respectively,” he said.

“Getting others to do the dirty work for you, Potter?” Severus asked, his tone light.

“I like to think of it as using my resources wisely. I would’ve grabbed niffler fur instead of Boomslang skin and had no idea gillyweed was in your storage,” Harry replied, his eyes dancing.

 

 

~*~

  
“Harry!” Hermione called, sitting down next to him on the grass overlooking the hill.

“Hey you, shouldn’t you be inside getting fitted for your dress for the twelfth time?” he asked. Hermione huffed, blowing hair out of her face.

“I need a break. Besides, I have to ask you something,” she said. Harry raised his eyebrow and looked at her.

“Well, it’s a bit late to be asking if you should marry him. I mean, Ron’s a great guy, but really, Hermione? It took him seven years and being called Won-Won before he realized what was going on. He’s a bit slow,” he said teasingly. Hermione punched him on the arm.

“Knock it off, you,” she said with a laugh. Harry grinned. “No, I wanted to know…Luna wants to take a few pictures for the _Quibbler_. I told her I’d get back to her. I know I said no reporters—but it _is_ Luna. So I thought I’d ask. You’re free to say no.”

Harry shrugged.

“As long as Rita the Beetle doesn’t show up, I’m okay,” he replied. Hermione smiled and leaned against him.

“I’m getting married,” she breathed. Harry smiled at her and nodded.

“To an idiot, but yes, you’re getting married,” he said. Hermione’s laugh carried on the wind and down the hill.

 

 

~*~

  
It wasn’t that Harry was trying to avoid and ignore everybody, it was just that he had forgotten how overwhelming the immediate Weasley clan could be, and then once you started adding boyfriends and girlfriends and wives and children and a few other relatives who had made it…

Harry sat on the swing on the porch and breathed, letting the muffled sound from inside wash over him. There was a blast of loud noise as the door opened. Harry glanced over as Ron came out and sat down next to him.

“Hey,” Ron said, seeming out of breath. Harry chuckled.

“You okay there, Weasley?” he asked. Ron nodded. “Not getting cold feet are you?”

Ron snorted.

“Nah, don’t think we’ll be having kids any time soon, though. I just want some quiet…you know?” he asked.

“She won’t mind. She’s got her goals set for at least the next two decades. You guys can have kids later,” Harry said.

“Don’t tell Mum that, though,” Ron said with a chuckle. Harry laughed.

They sat in silence before Ron sighed heavily.

“Is this the part where I ask you if I’m doing the right thing?” he asked.

“If it is, you should find someone else to ask. I’ve been gone for almost two years with no one but a comatose Severus Snape for company,” Harry said.

“Yeah, but you brought him back,” Ron said. Harry looked out at the back garden.

“Sure did,” Harry said. They went silent again.

“Do you love him still?” Ron asked. Harry sighed.

“Yeah,” he said.

“But?”

“Terrified of the future, I guess. I don’t want to lose him, but…what the hell am I supposed to do next, Ron? Where am I supposed to go? If I come back home…I don’t want to disappoint everyone’s expectations of me,” he mumbled.

“No offense, mate, but the only expectations you should be worried about are Mum's. And considering you haven’t got your NEWTs and had a shit childhood, her expectations are not that high for you,” Ron said.

Harry stared at his friend. “What?”

“Well, it’s true. I mean, we’re just all glad you didn’t commit suicide when Severus was kissed. You’ve had a shit time, Harry. All we want is for you to be happy. And anybody who tells you that you need to be Minister or this or that or the other, well, they don’t really know or care for you, you know?” Ron said.

“When the hell did you get so smart?” Harry asked with a smirk.

“Looking for your happy ass,” Ron replied. Harry laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

“My honest opinion?” Harry asked, looking up at Ron. Ron quirked an eyebrow and motioned for Harry to continue. “She’s going to nag the hell out of you, Ron. And she’ll always be pushing you. And rolling her eyes at you.”

Ron chuckled.

“But?” he said. Harry grinned.

“You could still be Won-Won,” Harry said. Ron laughed.

“Glad to know you have my back on this,” Ron said.

Harry shrugged. “What are friends for?”

 

 

~*~

  
When asked later to describe Hermione, Harry didn’t think he’d remember a single detail about her dress. Instead, he’d talk about her smile and how her eyes never left Ron’s. He’d describe how her lip twitched to keep her from laughing as Ron’s jaw dropped when she appeared to walk down the aisle. He’d describe how she finally lost it when Ron leaned towards Harry and whispered, “Bloody hell,” making Harry swallow a chuckle as the bride giggled her way down the aisle. He’d describe how Ron looked perfect beside her and completed the picture. He’d describe how Ron’s grin was reflected in her eyes and how she looked nothing and everything like the pushy eleven-year-old Harry had met on the train years ago.

Nevertheless, he knew that the slim dress was perfect. The fall colors chosen to theme the wedding didn’t clash with Ron’s hair, and made Hermione seem even more in her element. He knew that when he took Ginny’s arm as they filtered back down the aisle, she was sighing happily.

“About time,” Ginny murmured to Harry and he nodded in agreement, before catching Severus’ eye. The Potions master had been sitting next to Minerva McGonagall during the wedding.

Harry felt his heart speed up as he smiled at the man whose smoldering look burned into him.

At the reception, Harry sat to the right of Ron in front of everybody.

“Do I really have to make a speech?” Harry grumbled. Hermione glared over from the other side of her husband.

“Yes,” she said before Ron could answer. Harry looked at Ron and shook his head sadly.

“Told you, she’ll nag you for the rest of forever.”

Ron and Ginny laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes.

As Harry stood up and raised his wand to cast a Sonorus, the entire tent went silent, and all eyes turned towards him. He wildly sought out the pale face of Severus, relaxing when he found the familiar quirked eyebrow.

He took a few deep breaths as the crowd waited silently.

“There are some things in life, I’ve realized, that you can’t share without ending up liking each other,” Harry started. He grinned at Professor McGonagall next to Severus. “And with Ron and Hermione, the first thing we shared was knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll.”

The crowd laughed and Harry turned to Hermione.

“I should mention, it was me who locked it in there with you in the first place, but it was also me who thought we should go warn you of it in the first place,” he said. Hermione shook her head and closed her eyes, chuckling.

“I’m not just here as Ron’s best man. I’m here for my two best friends. My first two real friends. I’ve been told that it’s thanks to my sheer dumb luck that I’m alive today. I don’t disagree, but I also think that where sheer dumb luck failed me, Ron and Hermione didn’t. In my first year at Hogwarts alone, I would’ve gotten eaten by a giant three-headed dog, choked by Devil’s Snare, crushed by giant chess pieces, and I would’ve probably drunk poison if it weren’t for the both of them. I've struggled through some really hard things with them, and being my friend has tested them both…a lot. They’ve both risked their lives for me while I did my best to stay alive long enough to finish a war that wasn’t really mine to begin with. I love you both,” Harry said, turning to them.

“I loved you when you were being berks and refusing to talk to each other. And I loved you when you weren’t talking to me. I even loved you when I was being a berk and not talking to you. If there were a spell or a potion that would ensure your happiness for the rest of your lives, that would shield you from all the bad that the world still has to offer, I’d go to the ends of the world to give it to you. But the thing is, that spell is love, and you already have it with each other. So congratulations to both of you. I love you guys, and yes, this was the best decision you both could’ve ever made.”

He realized later that his tears were just as present as Hermione’s as he hugged his two friends tightly.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus frowned and looked around the dwindling reception. The bride and groom had disappeared hours ago, and it seemed Harry had as well. Minerva stared at him.

“Looking for your beau?” she asked. Severus glared at her.

“Something of that sort, I didn’t realize I was so wrapped up in listening to your boring stories that I missed him leaving,” Severus stated.

“Well, off with you, then, go find him. I need to get back to Hogwarts anyway, I know any excuse to party is a good one for the Weasleys, however,” Minerva glanced over at George and Ginny conspiring in the corner, “I get the impression I’m not going to like what I’m about to see.”

Severus laughed. The two left the tent and said their goodbyes before Severus headed toward the garden shed. He entered the front door and glanced towards the bedroom. There was a single candle flickering inside for light.

Quietly Severus moved to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and undressed, putting on a dressing gown before entering the bedroom. He quirked an eyebrow as he realized the beds had been pushed together.

“Harry?” he said softly, stepping in. Harry shifted on the bed and smiled at Severus.

“Do you mind?” Harry asked. Severus shook his head. Harry was wearing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Severus was glad he'd kept his boxers on as he removed the dressing gown and climbed into the bed. As he stared at the flickering candle, Harry moved so his back was pressed up against Severus’ chest. Severus smirked and wrapped his arms around the smaller body.

“Are you okay?” Severus asked quietly. Harry hummed and nodded.

“You gave a beautiful speech,” he murmured to Harry.

“Thank you,” Harry replied.

They lay in silence, watching the candle.

“I want to come home,” Harry said finally. “I miss everybody, I miss my family.”

“Then why don’t you?” Severus asked.

“I’m afraid. I don’t want to deal with the press, and the accusations, and getting special treatment when I walk into simple shops,” Harry responded.

“Is that all?” Severus asked. Harry went silent again and Severus waited patiently. He gently stroked his fingers up and down Harry’s arm, admiring the bit of skin he was able to see in the glow of the candle. Harry pulled away slightly and turned to face Severus.

“I can’t do nothing every day, but…I don’t know what I want to do. I don’t want to be an Auror. I don’t have my NEWTs and I’d rather not use my name to get into programmes that require them… If all I do is play helper to a shopkeeper for the rest of my life, or even for just a little while, everybody will go berserk. The shop will probably get mobbed a few times. And then the letters about how I need to be doing something, helping people, will start pouring in, but…I don’t know,” Harry sighed and looked towards the pillows.

Severus started to formulate a response in his head before Harry interrupted him.

“Are you not wearing a shirt?” he asked. Severus blinked at him.

“Are you just now realizing this?” he replied with a frown.

“Well, my mind is not entirely focused,” Harry said as he reached forward and ran a hand over Severus’ chest, causing him to take in a sharp breath. Harry hummed before shaking his head and pulling his hand back.

“Sorry, we were having a serious conversation,” Harry said.

“You either have the attention span of a goldfish, or are a horrible tease,” Severus grumbled.

Harry laughed before sighing. “A teasing goldfish with no purpose,” he said.

“I can’t give you a purpose for your entire life, but if you were to decide to come back home permanently, I could think about something that would occupy you for a short time,” Severus said.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Well, how many properties do you own between your two inheritances?”

“A lot.”

“And how many have buildings with things inside of them?”

“Most.”

“So, go through all of that. What gets donated to a museum, or handed to the Ministry? What can you sell? Then what do you do with the buildings and properties? Clean them up and sell the house? Tear them down and sell the property? Maybe build something new on them?”

“Like what?” Harry asked, looking at Severus curiously.

“A new hospital, or…a Quidditch pitch—whatever you can get offers on, really,” Severus said.

“And then?” Harry asked.

“I want to open an apothecary. While I do that, you focus on the properties. Afterwards…I hate people. I need someone whom I can trust to actually sell my goods. You can use it as a front until you find something better, or you can just be my business partner, and people can get over it,” Severus replied. Harry hummed and turned in Severus’ arms, staring back at the candle.

“Where would I even live?” Harry asked softly. “I don’t want to go back to Grimmauld.”

“Your house-elves have been working on that for you behind your back,” Severus said. “I’ve known this for months, but…it never seemed like you would actually want to hear it.” Harry snorted.

“Stockpiling newspapers, finding me a home in England, sending me things from Hermione…My house-elves don’t seem to like me or what I have to say very much,” Harry groused, with little heat in his voice.

“No, I think they rather like you too much, so they make sure that they prepare for everything,” Severus said. Harry sighed heavily. Severus leaned forward and kissed right under Harry’s ear.

“No matter what you decide, if you want me, I’ll be there,” Severus said. Harry relaxed into his embrace.

“I guess you’ll just stop me if I try to tell you how I feel about you,” Harry said. Severus snorted.

“You mean if you tell me I’m a greasy git and a horrible bastard?” he asked.

“Yeah, that,” Harry replied.

“And you’re an arrogant brat and the king of dunderheads,” Severus said. Harry smiled, feeling Severus’ fingers dancing up and down his arms as he stared into the candlelight.

“And yet despite that, you still have no shirt on in the same bed as me. You’ll forgive me if I’m not insulted,” Harry murmured.

“Go to sleep, Harry,” Severus replied, burying his nose in the mop top of hair in front of him, and breathing heavily.

Harry hummed and let his eyes slide shut, focusing on the gentle rise and fall of the chest behind him.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry stared out the window and watched the rain as they zipped along the road.

“So your dad is really hoping to get one of these to every Wizarding family?” Harry asked, glancing over at Ron in the front seat. Ron grinned and nodded as Hermione drove.

“Yep. Working with Kingsley on getting everything permitted and licensed,” Ron said proudly. “Helps that Hermione’s dad has a fondness for old cars.”

Hermione grinned.

“They’ve always chatted before, you know, when the Weasleys came to collect me to go to the Burrow, or at Diagon Alley. But it wasn’t until after they returned from Australia that my dad really let himself get to know Ron’s parents,” she said.

Harry smiled and looked back out the window. “That’s brilliant.”

They were driving to the new home that Wimbly and Kreacher had been setting up. Hermione and Ron had offered to drive them, though most of the “drive” was spent flying invisibly through the air.

The rain, however, inhibited their flight path as they grew closer to their destination.

“This is going to give us a better idea of what’s around us,” Harry had told Severus cheerfully as the car slowly lowered onto the road, earlier that day.

“There’s nothing, just expanses of land,” Severus grumbled.

“It’ll give us privacy,” Harry suggested. At this, Severus had seemed to perk up.

“I think this is it,” Hermione said, snapping Harry’s thoughts back to the present. Her eyes were narrowed and she leaned over the wheel slightly, looking at the house on the right of the road.

“There’s a driveway,” Harry said with a frown.

“Obviously not a Black house, then,” Hermione said as they turned into the driveway.

“And a garage too,” Harry said.

Hermione shrugged. “Convenient, maybe you’ll be the first to get a Weasley car,” she said.

“Except I don’t know how to drive,” Harry replied.

“I do,” Severus said.

Harry turned and stared at him. “You do?” he asked, bemused.

Severus stared forward, boredom on his features. “Yes, I do,” he repeated.

“You speak Italian and drive cars. Is there anything else I should know about you, Severus Snape?” Harry asked playfully.

Severus looked at him with a smirk.

“A successful chess player never reveals every strategy they have at the beginning of a game,” he said. Harry rolled his eyes as the car came to a stop.

“Wimbly gave you a key, right?” Hermione asked. Harry nodded and fished it out of his pocket. They jumped out of the car and quickly moved to the covered area that connected the garage and the house.

“You’ll have to get a garage opener to use the garage, of course, but that’s easy,” Hermione mumbled, shoving her hands in her coat pocket and surveying the back garden as Harry fumbled with the key.

“What do you think that is?” Ron asked, pointing at a large shed set back and away from the house.

Harry glanced up from the lock. “Some sort of shed?” he asked before going back to the lock.

“Awfully big shed,” Ron mumbled.

“Even for the Potter family, this is quite Muggle, isn’t it?” Hermione said.

“It may have been the home James and Lily were supposed to move into before being forced into hiding,” Severus said.

Harry, who had just unlocked the door, paused and looked back at Severus. “You think?” he asked. Severus shrugged.

“It may have been,” Severus repeated. “Now, open the door before we catch our deaths.”

Harry opened the door and they quickly moved inside into a small room. Hermione hummed.

“Look, washing machine hook ups, this is definitely a Muggle home,” Hermione said, pointing at the wall as Harry continued through into the house.

They walked into a wide-open kitchen area that flowed into a living room area, creating an ‘L’ shape. There was a set of stairs leading up in the kitchen. The furniture was sparse.

Harry grinned as he recognized the sofa.

“That’s from Grimmauld,” he said, pointing. “We’ll need to buy new furniture.”

“That’s fine by me,” Severus said. Hermione had moved towards the front of the house in the living room area.

“I think this might be a bedroom,” she said, opening the door and peering in.

“Severus, you can have that bedroom, I’m going to go look upstairs,” Harry said. Severus frowned and watched Harry bound up the stairs, Ron behind him, before moving to the bedroom.

“Ensuite bath and everything,” Hermione said, looking at Severus with a smile. Severus nodded.

Upstairs, Harry glanced into the first door at the top of the stairs as Ron turned.

“Wow, look at this balcony!” Ron exclaimed, going to the balcony door. The balcony itself expanded across the front side of the house.

“Good bathroom, looks like it attaches to the room next to it,” Harry mumbled, turning and seeing the balcony.

He grinned at Ron. “Nice little quaint house,” he said.

Ron snorted. “Yeah, if you find another one of these in your lists of inherited properties, I expect a late wedding gift,” he replied as as Harry checked the second door and saw a large empty room.

“Office,” he mumbled before moving to the final door upstairs. This was the room connected to the bathroom. Inside, there was a bed also taken from Grimmauld.

“And here’s my bedroom,” Harry stated. Ron turned and stared at him as they both entered the room.

“You and Snape not going to share a bedroom?” he asked casually.

Harry shrugged. “We haven’t been. I don’t…I don’t honestly know where our relationship stands right now,” Harry said.

“You had two beds when Mum gave you guys the shed for the wedding and when you left, there was only one bed,” Ron said with a smirk.

Harry glared. “Nothing happened. It’s just…weird, is all,” he mumbled.

“But you’re still in love with each other and all, aren’t you?” Ron asked.

“I’m in love with him,” Harry said quietly.

“But he?” Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. “Who knows? Look, I need to get furniture in this place. Where do you think I should go?”

“There’s a furniture shop off of Diagon Alley on one of the side streets. We’ll go there this weekend,” Ron said, looking out the door as the stairs squeaked.

“All the kitchen things seem to be working. Want me to grab the food out of the car and cook some dinner?” Hermione asked as she got to the top stair, Severus behind her.

“That sounds brilliant,” Ron said, glancing at Harry, who nodded with a smile. Ron left the room to excitedly show Hermione the rain-saturated balcony as Severus entered the room.

“So this is it,” Harry said.

Severus nodded. “Nervous?” he asked.

Harry snorted and nodded. “Horribly so,” he responded.

Severus smirked. “Welcome home, Harry Potter.”

 

 

~*~

  
The knock came as they were finishing dinner. Hermione looked up at Harry, who sighed heavily.

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, going to the front door. Kingsley stood in the doorway with a smile.

“It’s good to see you again, Harry,” he said. Harry nodded and looked behind Kingsley.

“Hello, Minister,” Harry greeted him. Kingsley chuckled, seeing Harry’s eyes.

“I’ve got Ron here, he’ll serve as my official Auror,” Kingsley said. Harry looked up at Kingsley and stepped aside, allowing the man inside.

“I appreciate that,” he said quietly as Kingsley stepped inside.

“Severus Snape, it’s good to see you again,” Kingsley said, stepping forward and shaking Severus’ hand. Severus nodded.

“Minister, it’s good to be seen again,” Severus said. Kingsley sighed.

“I’d say let’s not mention that whole disgusting business that happened two years ago, but it’s why I’m here. Auror Weasley, if you could step away from the dishes for a moment, I’d appreciate it,” Kingsley said, peering into the kitchen area. Hermione swatted her husband, who walked towards Kingsley, pulling out his badge from his pocket and fixing it to the front of his robes.

“Minister, I should warn you that I’ve had a glass of wine before going on duty,” Ron said, grinning.

Harry rolled his eyes “Can we just get this over with, please?” he murmured, going to stand next to Severus. Kingsley handed Ron a piece of paper.

“Misters Potter and Snape, you are hereby summoned to the Ministry of Magic, tomorrow at one o’clock p.m. for a meeting with a Minister to officially pardon and retract previous sentences,” Ron read. Harry fidgeted as Severus placed a hand on the small of his back to calm him down.

“Do we have to go to the Ministry?” Harry grumbled.

“It’s the only way to remove the trace that was put on Severus’ magic,” Kingsley said, taking the parchment and handing it to Severus. “We also have to present Severus with his Order of Merlin, First Class.”

“For services rendered to the Ministry, or for spending a year inside of a Dementor’s belly?” Severus asked sarcastically.

Kingsley frowned. “I am sorry that this ever happened. Trust me when I say it will not happen again,” he said. “On the paper are the Floo coordinates. I know you don’t have your Floo open here, but if you can get to a safe Floo point, that’ll lead you directly to my offices, as opposed to the Ministry proper. Less chance of bumping into unsavory reporters.”

Hermione stepped forward next to Harry, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

“We appreciate that, Minister. Thank you,” she said, glancing at Harry and smiling.

Harry sighed and turned, heading towards the stairs. He felt like once again his life was being taken into other people’s hands. That he had no say in the matter and that choices were being made about him without anybody asking him. He didn’t say anything as he went up the stairs and into the room he'd decided was his.

Severus closed his eyes as the door slammed upstairs.

“Thank you, Ron, Hermione, for the dinner. Minister, I will be there tomorrow,” he said as the other three stared forlornly up the stairs.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry didn’t come down for breakfast. Severus dug through the dresser that had been brought from Sicily, looking for something other than pajamas to wear.

“Wimbly!” he called; the house-elf appeared with a smile and Severus blinked.

“Are…are you two moving in?” Severus asked. Wimbly nodded excitedly.

“Kreacher and Wimbly are in the attic! Master Harry said we could have the whole attic to ourselves and that Wimbly could even have a pillow for a bed!” she said excitedly. Severus hummed and nodded.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he said honestly before shaking his head. “Wimbly, do I have robes? Anywhere? Any of my old clothes that were at Grimmauld?”

Wimbly frowned, her ear twitching.

“Wimbly thinks they’re at Grimmauld. Wimbly will go ask Kreacher and look,” she said.

“Bring Harry’s things too…in fact, any clothes, books, anything, bring them here, but focus on the robes first,” he said.

 

 

~*~

  
“Are those the dueling robes I got you in your sixth year?” Severus asked with a bemused smirk as the younger man came down the stairs. Harry glared at him.

“So what if they are?” Harry asked cautiously. Severus pursed his lips, looking down at the sleeve of his robe and straightening it.

“You really haven’t grown since your sixth year?” he teased.

It was not the response Harry had been expecting. He blinked a few times before rolling his eyes. “Shut up,” he mumbled, his lips quirking up as he headed for the kitchen to find something to eat. Severus chuckled, following Harry. He sat down at the kitchen table and watched Harry.

“Are you sure dueling robes are entirely necessary?” Severus asked. Harry didn’t turn to look at him.

“Yes,” he replied shortly.

“You know…you’re safe now, Harry. They aren’t going to be putting you in Azkaban,” Severus said. Harry, in the middle of making a sandwich, put down the knife and turned to Severus.

“No, I am not safe. There are Death Eaters who probably would love to have my head, there are grieving families who would love to curse me because they need to blame someone for not winning the war fast enough, and there are people who think they know best for Harry Potter,” he said. “It may be home, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. You’ll do well to remember you’ve got the same people, only with a lot more negative thoughts.”

Severus sighed but didn’t argue.

“Besides, I’ve only got these and dress robes. Everything else is school robes,” Harry said after a few minutes of silence.

Severus laughed. “We’ll fix that,” he promised.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry didn’t relax until they got home. The entire meeting had been rather short, but incredibly strained as Harry twitched at the smallest noise. Finally at home, Harry had disappeared upstairs only to return a few moments later wearing a black Weasley sweater with a golden ‘H’, and a faded pair of pajama bottoms. Severus had sat down on the sofa and was reading a book when Harry joined him. Harry sat in silence, arms curled around his knees for a while. Severus pretended to read, turning pages at appropriate intervals, but paying more attention to the man next to him than to the words on the page.

“We need an owl,” Harry eventually said, quietly.

“We need new furniture,” Severus replied just as quietly.

“We need to set up the Floo.”

“We need to find out what kind of wards there are around the house.”

“We need to get a washing machine.”

“We need a garage door opener.”

“I need new clothes.”

“I need a place to brew,” Severus finished, looking at Harry, who smiled shyly up at him over his knees.

“We need to go shopping,” Harry said.

Severus nodded, placing his forgotten book in his lap and reaching forward to stroke Harry’s face gently. “We need to start our life,” he said.

Harry leaned into the touch and let his eyes slide shut. They sat there for a while, just listening to each other breathe as the rain battered against the window.

 

 

~*~

  
They started by going to Grimmauld and finding everything the house-elves had missed. Wimbly had gone to Hermione to ask her to set up their Floo Network for them as Harry and Severus attacked the old house. Harry had gone upstairs as Severus went through the library.

“Kreacher?” Severus said as he perused the shelves.

“Yes, Master Snape?” Kreacher asked, organizing the items Harry and Severus had stacked in the center of the room into boxes.

“The house that we are moving into, did it belong to the Potters or the Blacks?” Severus asked as Harry walked into the room, carrying his school trunk.

“Neither,” Kreacher replied.

“What?” Harry asked, putting the trunk down. Kreacher looked at him.

“It came from the Potter inheritance, but it was owned by the Lupin family,” Kreacher replied. Severus’ face fell.

“I know what the shed in the back was used for,” he muttered darkly. Harry looked at Severus before looking at Kreacher.

“Why is a Lupin house in my Potter inheritance?” he asked.

“Half-breeds are not allowed to inherit property,” Kreacher said. Before Harry could correct Kreacher, Severus interrupted.

“The Lupins probably gave the house to your father with the knowledge that he and Lily would let their son and whatever future family he had use it,” Severus said.

Harry looked down at his hands. “I guess that technically means we’re living in Teddy’s house,” he mumbled.

“Considering he is a toddler currently enjoying the high life with his grandmother, according to Molly Weasley, I doubt he’ll mind,” Severus said, looking over at Harry who smiled. “Have you found everything?”

“Yeah, I didn’t really have much, and most of this is Dudley’s old stuff, so it needs to be burned anyway,” Harry said with a sigh. Severus nodded.

“Do you think you’ll ever go see him?” Severus asked.

“Who, Dudley?” Harry asked, confused.

“Teddy Lupin,” Severus corrected.

Harry shrugged. “Maybe when we’re more settled,” he said. “One step at a time.”

 

 

~*~

  
“Out! I said OUT!” Madam Malkin screeched, beating away the crowd of people at the shop door. She closed and locked the door before turning to Harry, who stood in the back of the shop, hair and eyes wild.

“You haven’t been in here for four years, correct?” she asked. Harry nodded and the woman sighed, turning again to flip the sign from “open” to “closed” and drawing the shades down around the window.

“Let’s find you something sensible to wear.”

 

 

~*~

  
“I’ll let you all in for a price! But you must be very quiet, Madam Malkin is working in the back with Mr. Potter. They’re almost done!” Malkin’s assistant cried to the street full of fans and reporters. Madam Malkin squeezed Harry’s arm at the side of the shop and smiled at him.

“Between that and the notice-me-not spell, you should be able to get back to the Leaky Cauldron without much hassle. I’ll send the rest of your robes as soon as they’re ready,” she whispered encouragingly. Harry gripped the packages closer to his chest.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

She smiled at him. “Just give them time to get used to having you home, dear, the craze will die down soon.”

Though he didn’t believe her, Harry nodded. He cast a quick spell over himself.

“Good bye, dear,” the seamstress whispered, going back into her shop through the back door as Harry braved the busy street. Most of the reporters, at least, had been filtered through the front door of the shop, and the assistant’s coin bag was noticeably fatter.

Harry was lost in his thoughts as he weaved through the street, and didn’t feel one of the packages slowly start to slip out of his grip. When it dropped, he sighed heavily and reached down to pick it up.

“Mama! It’s Harry Potter!” a small child cried. Cursing, Harry picked up the package and took off at a run, feeling people pointing and staring at him, some even trying to chase him down. As more and more people recognized him, Harry cursed again, turned on the spot, and Disapparated.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus looked up from his book as the door burst open and Harry, soaking wet from the downpour outside, stepped in.

Severus arched an eyebrow. “What happened?” he asked

“Fucking Harry Potter happened,” Harry growled, throwing a wet package on the sofa next to Severus.

“Madam Malkin says if it fits correctly, let her know, she’ll send you some more,” he grumbled, squelching towards the stairs.

Severus frowned. “Harry—”

“No!” Harry shouted and turned. “You don’t get to talk right now. I get to go upstairs and dry off and realize how huge a mistake this was.”

With that, he stormed up the stairs.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry didn’t come out of his room for dinner or the next morning for breakfast. Severus went upstairs and knocked on the door.

“I’m going out,” he announced. There was no response. With a sigh, Severus moved back down the stairs and to the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the fire, stepping in as the fire turned green. He shouted out his destination with one final look up at the stairs.

A few moments later, he stepped out into Ron and Hermione’s living room. Hermione was leaning against the mantel.

“Is he okay?” she asked as Severus brushed off his robes.

“I wouldn’t know, he shouted at me and hasn’t come out of his room since he got home yesterday,” Severus replied. Hermione sighed and handed him a vial of Polyjuice.

“I don’t know why he went out by himself,” she groused.

“He left before I was out of the shower. Otherwise, I would’ve gone with him. He got used to having his anonymity in France and Italy,” he said, taking the Polyjuice and inspecting it.

“And Spain,” Hermione said with a sigh. “But still, not even a glamour?”

“Did he wear glamours in Spain and France?”

“Not in Spain, he grew his hair out. But in France he did,” she responded. “Do you want some company?”

Severus narrowed his eyes.

“Do you have nothing to do but follow Harry and me around?” he asked.

Hermione grinned and shrugged. “Supposed to be studying. Trying to get into school to read law,” she responded. “Don’t tell Ron I said this, but he’s right, it is a bit boring.”

Severus chuckled. “Come along then, you can help me pick a proper owl.”

Hermione smiled. “Let me grab my coat. Diagon Alley isn’t too far from here. Would you like to walk?” she asked.

Severus nodded. “That’s acceptable, but we may need a second Polyjuice,” he said.

“That’s easy. We’ve got tons stockpiled from Italy,” Hermione replied.

Bottles tinkling merrily in his pockets, Severus, along with Hermione, stepped outside of the apartment. Hermione was giggling as Severus tugged on his robes that had become a centimeter too short in his new form. He looked like a much younger Italian man with thick but short, dark curly hair and brown eyes.

“We tried to find someone exactly Ron’s height. When he takes this batch of Polyjuice his clothes are a little big,” Hermione giggled.

“Brilliant. You know Harry hasn’t grown an inch since his sixth year?” Severus remarked. Hermione grinned and nodded.

“He’s only slightly taller than I am. Ron’s been valiantly trying not to tease him about it,” she said. Severus chuckled.

They walked to Diagon Alley, chatting about a variety of different things. As they passed through the Leaky Cauldron and into the Alley itself, Severus had a thought.

“Would it be possible for me to borrow your father-in-law’s vehicle?” he asked. Hermione blinked.

“The car? Oh, it belongs to Ron and me, actually. What do you need it for?” she asked.

“I was thinking of using it to explore the town near the house. Perhaps it’d be wise for us to buy our furniture there from Muggles, as opposed to a Wizarding shop,” Severus said.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you use the car whenever you want if you keep it in your garage and let Ron and me use it whenever we need it. We’ve no place to put it, and don’t use it often enough, as we’re in the city. It could clear up a lot of space at the Burrow for them to continue working on more vehicles,” she said.

Severus frowned. “I feel like I’m getting more out of this deal than you are,” he said.

Hermione grinned at him. “Would it make you feel more comfortable if I asked for one other favor to be named at a later time and date?” she asked.

“It would certainly be more Slytherin,” he said. Hermione laughed.

 

 

~*~

  
Severus jumped out of the car and pointed his wand at the garage door. Harry watched bemused from his bedroom window. As the garage door opened, Harry left his window and headed down the stairs and outside.

“What’s with the car?” he asked after Severus pulled the car into the garage.

“Mrs. Hermione Jane Weasley was kind enough to let us borrow it, and house it in our garage, so long as we let her and her husband use it whenever they so choose,” Severus replied. He pulled a covered owl cage out of the back seat.

“And what do we need to borrow it for?” Harry asked.

“I am going to go to the town tomorrow. It’s a bit odd to go to a Muggle town with no kind of transportation,” Severus replied, following Harry back inside and out of the rain.

“Why do you want to go there?” Harry asked.

“Furniture, I’m going to look for furnishings for the house,” Severus replied. “You’re more than welcome to join me, unless, of course, you’d like to stay in your room all day.”

Harry glared at him. “I’ll go. Someone has to make sure you pick more than just green and silver for the entire house,” he said. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“No.”

“I’ll make something,” Harry said, turning to the stove.

Severus glanced at him. “Don’t you want to see him?” he asked, placing the cage down on the table. “Hermione helped pick him out.”

Harry turned and stared at the cage. “I haven’t had an owl since Hedwig,” he mumbled.

Severus lifted the sheet, revealing a common barn owl.

“Good thing he’s not a snowy, then,” Severus said. “Want to name him?” Harry hummed and stepped forward, looking at the owl.

The owl lifted his head from his wing and shook himself as he woke from his nap.

“Tristan?” Harry asked. The owl hooted low and Severus smiled.

“Tristan it is,” he said.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry was up before dawn the next morning. The rain had finally stopped the night before and he was set on going outside. Scribbling a note for Severus, he silently slipped out the backdoor, dressed in nothing but jeans and a simple long sleeved green shirt. He walked quietly across the lawn, listening to the gentle shush of the wet grass brushing against his trainers in the haze of before sunrise. As he neared the shed, he pulled his wand out. Tapping the lock once, Harry reached forward and grasped the handle. The door swung open and stale air flooded Harry’s nostrils. He stepped in quietly.

It was more than the air that flooded his senses as the door shut behind him. The silence was louder than any noise Harry had ever heard as the chirping crickets and rousing birds suddenly were shut out. And the cage…

Harry couldn’t breathe as he stared at the giant rusted iron cage illuminated by the grey light from the single window in the loft. The floating dust almost gave the illusion of sparkles as the individual particles also caught the light.

Harry finally took in a breath and stepped towards the cage that spanned the expanse of the building. He pushed the metal door open and closed his eyes as he stepped inside, ignoring the chains his feet brushed against on the floor. Opening his eyes and swallowing hard, he walked through the cage to the other side where another door stood opened. Ignoring more chains, he slipped through the door easily.

On this side of the cage a small bed was shoved in the far corner next to the back wall. Dust covered its sheets. Next to it, as if it were a bedside table, a low bookcase sat. In the corner opposite the bed, still along the wall, sat a dresser. Its two missing legs made it look like it was bowing to the corner. Built into the wall between the two was a narrow ladder that Harry climbed.

In the loft was the one window facing east, a large overstuffed chair, and a plethora of papers. The papers seemed to cover the floor and walls. Harry’s heart ached as he picked up a single sheet to see a sketch of menacing eyes staring down a long snout. On the top, the words “The Beast” were scrawled in a familiar script, with Remus’ signature in the bottom corner. Sinking into the armchair, Harry clutched the paper to his chest and waited for the sun to rise.

 

 

~*~

  
Tristan took off with a hoot, carefully carrying the letter Severus had attached to his leg. With a huff of exasperation, Severus glanced at Harry’s letter and grabbed the younger man’s coat before heading outside. He buttoned a few more buttons on his own coat as he headed briskly to the shed. It was a cold morning, and not even the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon would be able to change that.

He paused at the door of the shed and stared at the door with some trepidation before convincing himself to step inside.

“Harry?” he called, closing the door behind him. He turned from the door and felt his heart leap into his chest at the sight of the cage.

“Up here.”

Severus looked up and saw Harry sitting in the chair in the loft, a piece of paper in his hand.

“You’re going to freeze to death, you know,” Severus said, pulling his wand out and floating the jacket towards Harry. Harry nodded quietly as the jacket fell into his lap. Severus leaned his back up against the door and stared at the cage.

“The Shrieking Shack is nicer,” he commented. That got a response. Harry jumped up and whirled so he was looking down at Severus, the jacket fell to the floor and Severus raised an eyebrow at the papers that the movement seemed to stir at Harry’s feet.

“Why did a man with so much purpose—a man with a _son_ —die, while a boy who has no idea what he wants to do was left alive?” he roared. “It’s not fair! It’s not okay!”

Severus crossed his arms over his chest. “You have plenty of purpose. You have to help me pick an appropriate sofa today,” he remarked.

Harry growled and tossed the paper in his hand to the floor. “This isn’t a joke, Severus!”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” Severus said, quickly moving forward and snatching the chains up off the floor.

“Do you see these?” Severus asked, shaking the chains at Harry. “Do you see what Remus Lupin’s life was? He was stuck in this cage, Harry. No son or wife or lunatic Animagus or boy hero would have ever been able to change that in his lifetime. He might’ve had all the purpose in the world, but do you think he ever was going to be able to realize any of it?”

Harry angrily looked away from Severus, who swung the chains so they loudly hit the cage. Harry winced.

“Look at me!” Severus demanded. Harry turned his head back towards him. “Remus Lupin died so that you and his son and all of your friends could find your purposes and live your lives. You may be unaccustomed to this idea, but your role in the world is not handed out at an early age. You are not guided through life by manipulative old men who have a ‘bigger plan’ for you. You said once that you wanted a normal life. Well here it is, Mr. Potter. Welcome to being an adult. It’s horribly boring and filled with stupid and annoying decisions. You have tons of available options. Stop being so afraid of other people and what they have to say. Stop moping and do something with yourself. The more you focus on what you’re supposed to be doing without actually doing anything, the more time you waste and the less purpose you have.”

Severus took a deep breath, not sure where the conversation was going anymore after the rush of anger. He rolled his eyes.

“Now put your jacket on, get down here, and come shopping with me so we can have a comfortable house for you to wallow in since you can’t seem to take reasonable advice from any of your friends or family,” he finished, tossing the chains to the floor. Harry turned, picked up his jacket and headed for the ladder.

Severus moved away from the cage and back to the door, leaning against the wall as Harry moved his way down. The younger man stepped inside of the cage when he finally spoke.

“I think I can turn it into a lab for you to brew in,” Harry said. Severus closed his eyes briefly, trying to imagine the space without the intimidating cage in it.

“You’ll have to get rid of the light, potions can be light-sensitive,” he said in reply. “And we’ll need to work on the ventilation, and the temperature. Not to mention we’d have to get rid of the giant cage.”

“Well, it’ll give me something to do,” Harry said, stepping up to Severus. There was an apologetic smile on his face. Severus rolled his eyes again.

“Yes, well. Let’s focus on purchasing furniture today, Mr. Potter,” he said in reply, opening the shed door for Harry.

 

 

~*~

  
“Wow,” Harry breathed. Severus could only nod in response as he reached out to gently brush his hand against the metal of the bedframe. The iron had been twisted to represent a tree on the footboard. When one stared at it at the proper angle, the branches seemed to extend onto the headboard. It was stunning and something about it called to both men.

“Can I help you gentlemen with something?” a young woman asked, her name badge fixed onto her blouse.

Severus looked over at her and glanced at her name. “We’ll take this, Grace,” he said, pointing at the bed.

“Is that going to be all?” Grace asked, slightly bemused by the expression on Severus’ face.

“No,” Harry said. “I want the kitchen table in the other room.”

“And the desk in the front room,” Severus added.

“Shopping for a lot of furniture, aren’t we?” she asked.

“Well, we _are_ furnishing an entirely unfurnished house with absolutely nothing to start on. I imagine your shop will only be the first of many,” Severus said, reaching out to brush the frame again.

“I want new bath towels too,” Harry said, turning and wandering towards a sofa set. “Red and gold ones!”

 

 

~*~

  
“I still think we should’ve gotten the sofa with the leopard print,” Harry teased as they hopped out of the car. They pulled multiple bags from out of the back.

“And I still think you’ll have to get over it,” Severus replied as they entered the back door.

“I’ve never had new pillows before,” Harry said excitedly, looking down at one of the bags he was carrying.

“You’ll want to wait until your new mattress gets in so you can really enjoy the experience,” Severus advised.

“Really, we should wait to put any of this stuff away until the new furniture gets here, huh?” Harry asked, dumping the bags on the kitchen table and going over to say hello to Tristan.

“Perhaps. We may want to store it in the office upstairs, it does have a closet, doesn’t it?” Severus asked, carefully putting his bags down next to Harry’s and picking up a small package Harry had ignored. He smiled at the handwriting and carefully unwrapped the brown paper packaging.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, turning around at the sound of paper tearing. “What’s that?”

“Tristan’s first successful delivery,” Severus replied, pulling a scroll out of the box. He read the note from his old colleague.

“What’s in it?” Harry asked curiously, moving towards the table.

“A gift from Minerva,” Severus replied, keeping the box close to his chest so Harry wouldn’t grab for it.

“What kind of gift?” Harry asked with an arched eyebrow. Severus smirked at him and moved towards the living area. He carefully tipped the box over, letting its tiny contents spill onto the floor.

“Stay there,” Severus instructed as Harry tried to get closer to see them. Harry huffed and stood back, crossing his arms over his chest as Severus arranged the tiny objects before standing up. He pulled his wand out and pointed it towards the floor. With a flick of his wrist, two matching forest green wingback chairs and a trunk with Severus’ initials were restored to their proper sizes.

Harry gasped. “Is that…are those from your rooms at Hogwarts?” he asked excitedly.

“They are,” Severus replied. “Unfortunately I do not know which one is which.”

“I do,” Harry said, moving forward. Severus watched in fascination as Harry pushed the trunk out of his way so he could sit on the floor next to the two chairs. Severus flicked his wand again to send the trunk towards his bedroom as Harry leaned his head against the armrest of the first chair and reached underneath the chair as if searching for something. He frowned and then went to the other side of the second chair and repeated the process.

“This one,” Harry said finally. “This one is yours.”

Severus arched an eyebrow. “How can you tell?” he asked.

Harry blushed and curled into a familiar position at the base of the chair. “I used to pick at the wood when I was sitting here listening to you talk. It helped me focus,” he explained.

Severus frowned. He hadn’t remembered Harry sitting at his feet that often, but then when he thought about it, the sixteen-year-old who had often interrupted his peace in his rooms at Hogwarts was fonder of the floor than the sofa or the chair. At some point Severus must’ve just gotten used to the fact that, on his own accord, Harry would wind up on the floor during his visits, and would eventually migrate to Severus’ side when that happened.

He watched as Harry moved the chairs in front of the fireplace, the way they had been in Severus’ quarters.

“These are going to look really good with that sofa,” Harry murmured, collapsing into his own chair with his eyes closed. Severus stared at him, suddenly transported to the past where a younger Harry sprawled in the same chair in the same manner while Severus watched in fond exasperation.

“That’s why I insisted on that sofa,” Severus said. Harry cracked one eye open and grinned at him.

“You’re a bastard.”

 

 

~*~

  
“Harry?” Severus called up the stairs. He heard a door open, and stared up the stairs, waiting for a response.

“What’s up?” Harry asked. He appeared at the top of the stairs, dripping wet, in nothing but a towel slung low across his waist. Severus felt the heat build in the pit of his belly as he stared up at Harry. The younger man was toweling his hair dry with a smaller towel. He paused and looked down at Severus after a few moments. A grin crossed his face.

“Sev?” he asked casually. Severus willed his half-hard erection to go down as he glared at the man.

“I’m going to Diagon Alley,” Severus said with a scowl. “Would you like to go with me?”

Harry hummed and stretched upwards, reaching with both arms. The towel slipped dangerously lower.

“Harry,” Severus growled. Harry shivered and his arms dropped quickly, one going in front of his groin. Severus quirked an eyebrow.

Harry smiled down at him, his face flushed. “Wh—” Harry coughed and cleared his throat. “What do you need to go to Diagon for?”

“I have a few things I need to take care of. Hermione gave me her extra Polyjuice, if you’d like to use it,” Severus replied. “Or if there’s something else more…pressing…for you to attend to here, I’ll understand.” He leveled a stare at Harry’s hand in front of his groin. Severus watched in fascination as Harry’s blush extended down to his chest.

“No,” Harry whispered. “I’m not ready.”

Severus arched an eyebrow.

“To go to Diagon Alley!” Harry quickly added. “I’m not ready to go to Diagon Alley, not even with Polyjuice. I…I’ll go attack the shed. Get you closer to having a brewing space.”

“That’s some dirty work. You’ll need another shower,” Severus commented.

Harry shrugged. “Maybe I’ll have some company in the shower so I won’t feel like I’m wasting the water,” he suggested. The thought was intriguing to Severus who smirked. Harry bit his lip and smiled.

“Perhaps,” Severus replied. “I’m off. Don’t hurt yourself while I’m gone.” He turned and took a few steps so he was out of Harry’s sight. He let out a low breath and closed his eyes, freezing the image of Harry in his mind as he exercised every bit of self-control he had.

“See you later, Sev,” Harry called after him.

Severus waited until he heard another door close and open upstairs before letting out a quiet groan and moving to the fireplace.

 

 

~*~

  
The Leaky Cauldron went quiet as Severus Snape stepped out of the Floo. He stared around the room, prepared to make a snarky comment about Muggles seeing ghosts when he realized with a start that for the Wizarding world, he was the ghost, and they were the Muggles. Biting his tongue, he arched an eyebrow, gathered his robes in his hands, and turned efficiently. His robes billowed behind him as they once had in the corridors of Hogwarts, and he snorted quietly as he heard the hushed murmurs start before he could get to the back door.

The reaction on the street was not much better, however, as many people openly pointed or shouted his name. Severus rolled his eyes in exasperation and moved through the milling people with the skill and grace of a man who was used to pushing through crowds of teenagers trying to see a vicious fight. He managed to get into Eeylops Owl Emporium easily.

“Good afternoon, welcome to—Professor Snape!” the clerk squeaked.

Severus glared at his ex-student before pointing harshly. “Ravenclaw. Jenkins, correct?” he snapped.

Jenkins nodded. “B-but you’re supposed to be d-dead, sir,” he mumbled.

Severus arched an eyebrow. “Clearly I am not. And I am in need of a post service for a mail order business. Do you have any available post boxes?” he asked, not wishing to waste time.

He hoped to get back home by lunch. The furniture they had ordered the day before would be delivered the next day, and Severus had to move out the ratty furniture they currently had. In the back of his mind, a small voice helpfully suggested that if he managed to get sweaty enough, there would be a possibility of joining a certain ‘Gryffindor Potter’ in the shower.

“I-I-yes, sir!” Jenkins said quickly. He swallowed hard and scrambled for paperwork underneath the till. “I just—it’ll cost—if you could fill out—I think it’s—one Galleon—um—eight Sickles and six Knuts a month!”

The paper landed on the counter with a flourish, a red quill next to it.

“And I can trust that my home address will be kept confidential as all your customers' addresses are?” Severus requested the reassurance, staring at the boy in front of him with a stern look. Jenkins swallowed nervously and nodded. Severus arched an eyebrow.

“Maybe this quill instead,” Jenkins whispered quickly, grabbing the red quill and replacing it with a normal quill from next to the till. Severus continued to stare. Jenkins let out a small whimper and grabbed a different contract to replace the first.

“I forget sometimes which are which,” Jenkins said quietly. Severus rolled his eyes, snatched the new pen up and started filling in his information. Jenkins leaned forward trying to see what kind of information he could read as it was being written.

“What kind of business are you starting, sir? I’ve never known you to do anything other than teaching potions,” he commented. Severus glanced up and shot another dark look at Jenkins who quickly backed up. “Still working on potions then, sir?”

“Indeed,” Severus murmured before turning his attention back to his writing. Jenkins didn’t attempt more conversation as Severus finished. He looked over his information once and nodded, tapping it with the quill so that his address and other personal information were no longer prominently displayed. He handed the contract to the clerk.

“You’ll make sure you process this immediately, correct?” Severus instructed.

“Oh yes, sir!” Jenkins replied, nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll give it to my boss immediately, sir.”

“Good,” Severus said. He whirled around and stalked to the door. Briefly, he considered a parting shot to the boy, something about his school days. Severus decided it against it and stepped outside instead.

He immediately regretted the decision, if only to delay the inevitable meeting for two seconds longer.

She stood, waiting for her prey, her white teeth glinting between her overly painted lips. Her eyes were sharp and piercing. Severus snarled.

“Rita Skeeter,” he growled.

“Oh, Severus Snape! Severus, my dear! How good it is to finally see you again!” she crooned as Severus faltered. He gathered his robes and went to move past her, but she stuck out her hand with her long claws, and Severus recoiled from the touch.

“Oh now, don’t be coy with me, Severus dear!” she said sweetly. A pad of paper and her long green Quick-Quotes Quill appeared next to her. Both were poised and ready for their first sentence. “After all it has been _so_ long and we all have _so many_ questions.”

Severus felt like a Seeker, the way his hand darted forward and snatched the green quill out of the air. Rita had no time react before the quill snapped in Severus’ hand.

“I don’t give comments to nasty reporters who play the star of their own articles, especially when they write for unreliable sources such as yours,” he snarled, tossing the pieces of the quill at the shocked woman’s face. “Be careful, Miss Skeeter, or you may find yourself _squished_.”

His robes billowing once more, Severus headed towards Flourish and Blotts, leaving the gobsmacked reporter behind.

 

 

~*~

  
“Severus!” Harry shouted frantically.

Severus stumbled out of the fireplace. Harry stood at the corner of the kitchen and living room. His hands were covered in blood, and his face in tears. Something was shrieking behind him.

“Harry!” Severus gasped, moving forward. “What happened?”

“You have to help me, I don’t know what to do!” Harry cried. Severus grabbed Harry’s hands. His eyes darted over Harry’s body, looking for some sign of a wound.

“Calm down. Where…where is this blood coming from?” Severus asked quickly. Suddenly there was a loud yowling from the kitchen. Harry grasped Severus’ hands and pulled him to the kitchen sink.

A small cat was curled in the sink. Her fur was matted and her leg was bleeding profusely. Severus felt the adrenaline that had started to build in his system disappear immediately.

“She was hiding under the dresser and I heard her rustling, but I didn’t know what she was or if she’d bite so I just sent a little Stinging spell, just a little one! To get her out! And then she shrieked and there was blood everywhere! And I don’t understand because it was a spell I had used on Crookshanks before to get him off my homework when he pulled his claws out!” Harry said rapidly, taking short gasping breaths.

Severus slowly reached for the cat and gently stroked her head. She meowed loudly in return. He wasn’t even sure if her fur was supposed to be the dirty black it appeared to be.

“What spell do you use to shave in the morning?” Severus asked.

Harry blinked. “Um…the one Madam Pomfrey taught in fifth year? Tondero?” he replied. Severus nodded and stepped back from the sink.

“Shave her—carefully, Mr. Potter,” he instructed. “Her torso and legs.”

“Wait!” Harry cried as Severus turned and started to walk away. “Where are you going?”

Severus arched an eyebrow at him.

“Do you or do you not want me to get the appropriate potions to help her?”

“Oh,” Harry mumbled, nodding. “Right.” He pulled out his wand and turned back to the sink as Severus went to his room.

Severus quickly pointed his wand at the trunk that had arrived the night before. It opened as he moved to the ensuite bathroom and grabbed a small black bag from the counter. Moving back into his bedroom, Severus flicked his wand again.

“ _Accio_ Pet Care,” he intoned. A book flew out of the trunk and to Severus’ hand as he walked out of the room. He flipped through the pages quickly as he returned to the kitchen. Most of the fur had been shaved off the small cat’s torso, exposing tiny black fleas scattering about the skin.

“Leave her tail and her head alone,” Severus said as he set the book to float next to him, opened to the chapter on cats.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, glancing at the book as Severus dug through the black bag that was no larger than the book. Severus sighed and shoved his arm in up to his elbow, searching for something.

“Required text for every Head of House at Hogwarts. It details every kind of animal a wizard could have for a pet and every appropriate potion for it,” he muttered distractedly. Harry’s lips formed an ‘O’ shape and he finished shaving the cat.

“Now what? She’s still bleeding,” Harry said.

“How long has she been bleeding?”

“Maybe ten minutes?” Harry suggested. “But it’s slowed down.”

“Lift her up, burn the fur, and then put her back in the sink,” Severus said. Harry obeyed, though his confusion was clear on his face. The cat meowed loudly at being handled, turning to lick at her wound as she was placed back into the sink after the fur had stopped smoldering.

“Turn the tap on to warm. A gentle stream, Mr. Potter,” Severus instructed, pulling out a vial of potion. He put it on the counter before glancing at the book and reaching back into the bag again.

“Are we going to worry about her fleas or her bleeding leg?” Harry asked with a snap. Severus glared at him.

“We are going to worry about getting her cleaned so I can actually treat the bleeding leg. Knock it off, if she’s going to die it won’t be her leg, it’ll be the fact that she’s starving,” Severus said, jerking his chin towards the cat. Her ribs obviously protruded on her sides. Harry bit his lip and turned the water on slowly.

“Once it’s warmed, go ahead and start rinsing her off—and use that potion as shampoo. It’ll get rid of the fleas,” Severus instructed as he pulled out another vial, which he set further away from the first before reaching into his bag again. This time he took less time, grabbing several items near the top of the bag and pulling them out quickly. Harry was inexpertly rubbing the shampoo into the cat, leaving a slick coating. Severus rolled his eyes, setting his bag down next to the ingredients. He stepped behind Harry and covered the man’s hands with his own.

“Knead,” he said, letting his hands show Harry how to gently massage the cat. “Be firm but gentle, let her know that you’re not going to intentionally hurt her. Give her something to depend on with no sudden, unexpected movements.”

Harry swallowed hard, letting Severus guide his hands. The potion foamed and Harry watched in fascination as the water streaming towards the drain turned black with fleas. Severus lifted his hands off Harry’s and rinsed them before going to the ingredients. He pulled a battered pot out of the cabinet next to the stove and tossed several of the ingredients in before turning the stove on. He placed the pot on the burner and turned back to Harry.

“Rinse her off.”

Harry guided the tap to run over the cat’s small shaking body. As the foam, fleas, and grime lifted, the cat was left with grey skin surrounding most of her torso except small tufts of white between her hind legs, her chest, and on each paw. The tufts of white on her chest led into the unshaved fur around her neck. There was a line of white fur on the underside of her neck that went up and covered her nose. A thin trail tapered off between her eyes.

On her leg there was a long angry red line where blood was once again blossoming. Severus grabbed the second vial he had placed on the counter.

“Slowly stir the potion in the pot three times counterclockwise with a half stir clockwise to finish,” he instructed. Harry stepped away from the sink. The cat meowed loudly as Severus stepped up in his place. Harry scooted to the potion.

“What should I use to stir?” he asked.

“Any wooden spoon will do,” Severus responded, shutting off the tap. The cat meowed loudly again. It was a strange low sound Severus wasn’t sure he had heard a cat make before. He unstoppered the vial and placed a firm hand on the cat’s torso.

“Hold still,” he said quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry hesitate in stirring.

“Not you, Potter, the cat,” he snapped. Harry jumped and continued to stir. “Add the catnip next. One sprig will do. Let it boil.”

Harry grabbed for the only ingredient he could identify as possibly catnip as Severus carefully applied the viscous potion to the cat’s wound.

The cat yowled loudly and Harry dropped two sprigs of catnip into pot before rushing over to Severus.

“Is she okay?” he asked frantically.

“Of course she isn’t okay. She’s hungry and a very scary creature has put something that stings on a place that already hurts. Since you failed to listen to my instructions and put two sprigs instead of one, you now need to go stir that potion twice clockwise, with a three quarter diagonal sweep across the pot,” Severus instructed. Harry huffed but did as told as the cat continued to yowl.

Finally, Severus had covered the entire wound and it seemed to be closing. The cat was shaking hard, occasionally letting out small squeaks of displeasure.

“The potion is boiling,” Harry murmured, his eyes on the wet cat.

“Remove it from the heat, add a drop of fish oil, and cover it with a lid, please,” Severus responded. While Harry searched for a lid, Severus watched the wound very carefully. As it closed completely, the cat turned as if to lick at the potion still clinging to her skin.

Severus tsked loudly. He grasped the back of her neck and pulled her head away from her leg. The cat protested angrily.

“No, you don’t want to eat that,” Severus warned, turning the tap on again to rinse her leg. “Harry, go get one of the old towels from the bathroom.”

Harry quietly disappeared. As soon as he was out of her sight, the cat began yowling again, swatting at Severus. The man hissed and drew his hands back.

“He was the one who got you into this mess! Why are you swatting at _me_?” he complained as he reached forward to turn off the tap. The cat sat in the sink shivering as Severus rolled his eyes. Harry came back into the kitchen holding a towel. Severus moved to the fridge.

“Well, dry her off,” he said. Harry scuttled forward and picked the cat up in the towel. He wrapped her carefully and gently dried her ears. Severus pulled the milk out of the fridge and searched for a bowl. He glanced at Harry.

“Are you all right?” Severus asked.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t understand what happened,” he said.

“She probably got caught on something inside the dresser. It’s not your fault,” Severus reassured him.

Harry made a face. “It still terrified me. What if she seriously hurt herself or something? I’m just…” Harry sighed heavily. Severus arched his eyebrow as he filled the bowl with milk. He watched as the cat meowed quietly and stretched her paws out to knead the bit of towel against Harry’s shoulder.

“She’s purring,” Severus remarked. “Despite everything she’s rather attached to you. Come here, let’s see if she’ll drink this.”

He tapped the bowl with his wand to warm the milk. Then, using the wooden spoon Harry had stirred with, he carefully added a few drops of the potion. Harry moved forward and placed the cat and towel on the counter. She immediately went to the bowl and lapped the milk greedily.

Severus shook his head before glancing at Harry, who had his arms wrapped around his chest and was rubbing his arms absently. Severus carefully reached out his arm and wrapped it around Harry’s shoulder. Harry leaned into the touch.

“We’ll need to get cat food now,” Severus remarked. Harry chuckled and leaned his head against Severus’ shoulder.

 

 

~*~

  
Later that night, Severus glanced up from papers he was reading and looked at Harry. The man was curled on his chair with the cat on his lap. He was reading a book on building Wizarding homes that included a chapter on brewing rooms, which Severus had bought for him earlier. His hand was absently playing with the cat’s ears while she licked her paws.

“What are you going to name her?” Severus asked.

Harry looked up. “Hm? What?” he asked, blinking owlishly behind his glasses.

“What are you going to name her?” Severus asked.

“I don’t know, honestly,” Harry replied, looking down at the cat in his lap. “I’m kind of curious as to where I’m supposed to let her sleep tonight. I don’t have a cat bed.”

“Get one of your new pillows from the office and let her sleep on an old pillow. You’ll need to find somewhere to keep her out of the way tomorrow when the furniture comes in,” Severus commented.

“Maybe I’ll put her in the bathroom with all my old sheets and pillows,” Harry said, scratching the cat’s head. She stretched and began to purr.

“Speaking of bathroom, we’ll need to get her a litter box,” Severus replied. Harry made a face.

“Mrs. Figg had a litter box for her cats. The smell was atrocious.”

“She was also a Squib. If you go to Diagon Alley, there are plenty of litter boxes that are self-cleaning and you never smell them,” Severus said.

“I love magic sometimes,” Harry said with a grin as he looked up at Severus.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Yes, it can occasionally be useful.”

Harry smiled at Severus before looking back down at the cat. He went to pick up his book again when Severus interrupted him.

“Why didn’t you call for Wimbly or Kreacher to help you earlier?” he asked. “They would’ve been able to heal her in no time.”

Harry looked up at Severus, a bemused look on his face.

“I sent them to one of the other properties a few days ago. They’re going around cleaning things up and organizing. I’m trying to get all the furniture, paintings, knickknacks, and everything else into at least one place. That way I can deal with the properties while still wading through the things that came with them,” Harry explained.

“I hadn’t realized,” Severus remarked. “You keep them busy.”

Harry shrugged uncomfortably, playing with the cat’s tail. She turned her head and watched him curiously, darting her tail in and out of his fingers.

“I don’t really know how to deal with house-elves in the…well…house. I don’t know what to tell them to do,” he said. Severus snorted, picking up his papers from his lap and looking down at them.

“You’re probably the only wizard in the world with that problem Harry Potter,” he said with an amused smirk.

 

 

~*~

  
The next morning Severus and Harry took their old bedclothes and pillows and carefully covered the downstairs bathroom with them. Severus cooked the cat a meal more extravagant than what he made for himself and Harry, with hardboiled egg, a bit of cheese, and some chicken.

“Trying to woo her?” Harry teased.

Severus glared at him. “Trying to put some flesh back on her bones.”

After breakfast, they moved the old furniture into the garage before Harry disappeared into the shed. Severus sat down in his wingback chair and began filling out applications for a permit to have his own business, as well as a quick note for a litter box.

Harry stumbled in through the back door at lunchtime, a large box in his hands.

“What’s that?” Severus asked curiously from the stove.

“It’s all of Remus’ drawings,” Harry replied, setting the box on the counter before moving to the sink to wash his hands.

“What are you going to do with them?”

Harry shrugged. “I may go through them and give them to Teddy when he’s older. I haven’t really thought about it,” he said.

After lunch, Harry went back to the shed. Severus had just sent Tristan off with the mail and was giving the cat a sprig of catnip to entertain herself with when the knock came at the door.

“Mr. Potter?” the deliveryman asked.

“Snape. Mr. Potter is working,” Severus corrected. The man looked down at his paperwork. Satisfied by something he found, he handed the paperwork to Severus.

“Well, if you could sign at the ‘X’, we’ve got the pieces you ordered.”

After several trucks, signatures, and shouts of “Not _there_ , you imbecile! _Here!_ ” all the furniture had been delivered, set up, and relatively put in place.

Severus altered a few small details before pulling his trunk out of the bedroom. With a flick of his wand, the trunk was open and his items flew around the house, finding where they best fit. As a picture of his mother settled on the fireplace mantel, Severus frowned and moved upstairs.

Harry’s trunk was shoved inside a closet. Severus pulled it out and stared at it for a moment. On the one hand, he felt as if it wasn’t his place to have the other man’s belongings find their homes in the house. On the other hand, he knew that even though the property was Harry's, and Severus was truly the guest, Harry wouldn’t accept it as his home without being forced to. Severus quietly tapped the trunk with his wand. It snapped open.

The first thing to fly out was a pile of old clothes, which put themselves into the unlit grate in Harry’s room. Severus snorted as he walked out of the room and down the stairs, occasionally pausing to let a picture frame or a book sail past without fear of having his head hit. He’d let Harry burn the Dursleys’ clothes. He couldn’t deny that satisfaction to the man.

Severus went to the kitchen and began prepping dinner, only pausing when he heard the flurry of activity stop. He stepped into the living room and allowed himself a small smile. Next to his mother, stationary in her Muggle picture, Lily and James sat. Seeing Severus, Lily grinned excitedly and waved as James rolled his eyes and did the same in resignation.

Contentment washed over Severus as he looked around the living room. There were books missing from Spinner’s End that he didn’t know if he’d be able to recover. Harry would undoubtedly want to add more color around the house with random knickknacks and other clutter like the puppet from Sicily sitting on the opposite end of the mantel from the pictures. But for now, the house was starting to look like more than just a house.

A loud thumping from upstairs distracted Severus. With a frown, he moved up the stairs once more. In Harry’s room the trunk thrashed about. Severus stepped in and waved his wand to still the trunk. He peered inside of it. The trunk’s thrashing had displaced the invisibility cloak that Harry had obviously arranged along the bottom of the trunk to hide the heavily warded black box. From the etching on the top, Severus didn’t have to open the box to know that the Elder Wand and Resurrection Stone both lay hidden inside. He picked up the invisibility cloak and covered the black box before closing the trunk.

Severus headed back down stairs. He stopped at the bottom and surveyed the living room once more. A meow by his feet caused him took look down. The cat stared up at him.

“Did the bathroom door open?” he asked the cat. The cat sat down and meowed, lifting her paw to rub at her ear.

“I suppose you’re hungry?” Severus continued. The cat stood and looked at Severus expectantly. Rolling his eyes, Severus moved to the kitchen.

A while later, the cat stood on the counter eating another carefully created dish as Severus moved to prepping dinner. Harry walked in through the back door and collapsed into one of the chairs. Seeing him, the cat meowed loudly, jumped down from the counter, and went for Harry’s lap. She meowed loudly once more before jumping from his lap and stalking off.

Harry watched her go with a frown.

“What’s up with her?” he asked. Severus made a face.

“She, like me, probably thinks you need a shower before being given more than the barest acknowledgement,” he said. Harry snorted.

“Yeah, well, you’ll be happy to know that I’m ready to start laying out the shed however you want for your potions lab. So you can get over my stench,” he said before standing up. He yawned loudly as he went for the stairs. Severus watched him disappear. Not long afterward Harry bounded down the stairs. A pair of pajama bottoms were slung low on his waist, and the t-shirt he wore was tight across his chest.

“The furniture came…” Harry trailed off and took in his surroundings. He moved into the living room, staring at the books on the shelves and the pictures on the mantel.

“Came in…” Harry finished uncertainly.

“I was wondering how long you’d take to notice,” Severus said with a smirk. Harry turned and looked at Severus with a slightly stunned expression. He started to speak before something caught his attention on a shelf next to him. Harry moved forward with a frown and picked up the photo book. He smiled slightly as he traced the cover and opened it.

“Where’d you get all of my stuff from?” Harry asked quietly.

“Your trunk. A simple spell had everything find their appropriate places. And we have plenty of space for new things,” Severus said. Harry nodded before letting out a soft laugh at a picture of Sirius and his father making faces. He closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

“It’s like a real home,” he breathed.

“Just in time for the holidays,” Severus replied.

Harry looked up in puzzlement. “The holidays?”

“Next month is December,” Severus reminded him, moving back to the kitchen and dishing out dinner.

“Christmas,” Harry said. “I haven’t celebrated Christmas properly in three years.”

“We’ll have to find out what the Weasleys are doing. We can spend some time with them,” Severus suggested.

“Ron and Hermione Weasley or the whole clan? The wedding was tame compared to normal Christmases,” Harry said teasingly. “Fred and George once flooded the upstairs during Christmas. It was brilliant.”

Harry stopped, his face going pale as he thought of Fred.

“I suppose it may have calmed down, though,” he said quietly, sitting at the kitchen table.

“Maybe we’ll invite the newlyweds here for dinner one night, and if the invitation to the Burrow is extended…we can at least make an appearance,” Severus said.

Harry smiled slightly. “We’re starting to finally settle, huh?” he asked

Severus stared at Harry carefully. “Almost,” he said.

Harry looked up with a frown. He shook his head in confusion. “What do you mean almost?”

Severus hesitated slightly, putting the plates down on the table. He sat down and picked up his fork and knife carefully.

“There is that whole matter of you sleeping in the room upstairs,” he said casually. Harry stared intensely at him.

“Is there a problem with me being upstairs?”

“Other than you’re upstairs instead of downstairs, not really,” Severus said.

“And where would you sleep?” Harry asked carefully.

Severus looked up at Harry. “It is technically your house. If you’d rather me sleep somewhere other than downstairs, you’re more than within your right to say so,” he said.

“What are you asking me?” Harry said, a note of uncertainty in his voice.

“I suppose I’m really trying to find out if we’ll be giving the Weasleys gifts together, or separately this year,” Severus responded.

Harry bit his lip, a slight flush to his face. “Can we give Christmas gifts together, but still have me sleep upstairs?” he asked.

Severus arched an eyebrow. “Is that what you want?” he asked.

Harry sighed and shrugged. “I just want to explore what giving Christmas gifts together really means before I move everything downstairs,” he said.

“It means I’m not going to go back into a coma,” Severus said. Despite the grin on his face, a note of sadness crossed Harry’s eyes.

“Yeah, well, I still have to convince myself of that a little before I move downstairs,” Harry said.

Severus reached forward with one hand and grasped Harry’s, resting on the table. Harry lifted his hand slightly so that their fingers could intertwine. They stared at each other for a few moments, a thousand things crossing between them, unspoken.

“Your dinner is getting cold,” Harry whispered.

Severus smirked. “Yours is too.”

Their hands slowly slid away from each other.

 

 

~*~

  
The Burrow seemed to be bursting at its seams.

“Victoire Weasley! You get down from there right now!” Molly cried, grabbing the toddler from the kitchen counter where she was making a desperate grab for the Christmas cookies lying out to cool.

Severus sat at the kitchen table discussing cars and potions with Arthur and Percy. Ron and George were showing off the latest Weasley Wheezes in the living room. Harry sat on the floor with Teddy helping him unstick his fingers from an earlier Wheezes product that left pink goo all over the small boy’s hands. Hermione, Ginny and Dean were engaged in a playful argument on the couch. Fleur and Andromeda were talking quietly in French over coffee.

“Found it!” Charlie called, Bill behind him, as they barreled down the stairs. Harry looked up with relief on his face.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” he grumbled as Bill held up the bottle.

“Fred and George’s All Purpose Joke Remover. Guaranteed to remove any blemish, goop, ink or oil made by a Weasley invention,” he said. “Here, Teddy, give me your hand.”

“Oh no!” Harry said, grabbing his godson around the middle and pulling him into his lap. “You’ll test that stuff on my hand, not Teddy’s. Goodness knows everything is booby-trapped in that room up there.”

Harry held out his hand with bits of goo on it. Bill unstoppered the bottle and steadied the dropper over Harry’s hand. George turned quickly.

“No!” he cried as the drop hit Harry’s skin. The house went deathly quiet as Harry looked up at George, eyes wide.

“No?” he asked.

George cringed. “That’s the joke bottle we use on each other,” he said sheepishly. “Sorry, Harry.”

Harry swallowed hard as his hand became incredibly itchy. Hermione quickly jumped off the sofa and picked up Teddy as Harry’s eyes watered. He pushed himself up to his feet.

“Well, what’s going to happen?” he asked.

“Does it itch?” George asked, a lilt in his voice that belonged more to his deceased twin than to himself. His head was twisted slightly as if he were listening to something in his missing ear.

“Horribly,” Harry gasped as he grabbed his hand in the other.

George nodded. “Give it a moment.”

Within minutes, Harry was covered in bright blue feathers. He glared at George as Teddy let out a shriek of laughter that started a chain reaction of chuckles across the room. Teddy wiggled out of Hermione’s hands and ran for Harry. His hands were still covered in pink goo as his hair turned blue and grew long. Harry rolled his eyes and picked him up, grimacing as the goo-covered fingers stuck to his feathers and pulled them out inadvertently.

“George,” Molly warned from the entrance of the living room where the kitchen inhabitants stood, staring at Harry.

“I’ll go get the antidote!” George said excitedly, running upstairs.

“Uncle Harry purple now!” Teddy cried, turning his hair purple.

When they sat down to eat, Harry was almost finished molting the feathers he continued to charm to match Teddy’s ever-changing hair. Severus plucked a feather from the back of his head and smirked at Harry as he sat down next to him at the table. Harry shot him a withering look and shook his head.

After dinner, Victoire and Teddy were put to bed upstairs, and the alcohol was pulled out.

Hermione and Harry were crying from laughter as Percy danced around the living room trying to get Bill, Charlie, and George to guess the word ‘jarvey’ hours later in a game of charades.

“Jarvey!” Bill cried.

“Finally!” Percy huffed, sending the room into peals of laughter again.

“We’ve known for at least the last five minutes, but you were just funny,” Charlie teased. Percy rolled his eyes. Harry giggled and leaned against Severus. The man looked down at him curiously as Harry yawned loudly.

“Time to head home,” Severus said gently.

“It is awfully late,” Hermione agreed, smiling at the sight Harry made, eyelids drooping.

“Late enough to be early,” Arthur said. “We have extra room. Who is staying and who is going home?”

Severus helped Harry up. Hugs were given and goodbyes were said. Harry and Severus pulled on their coats and left the warmth of the house with Ron and Hermione.

Hermione hugged Harry tightly.

“Love you,” she whispered in his ear. He smiled and hugged her back.

“Love you too. Are you all Apparating home?” he asked.

Ron nodded. “Leaves more room for those with children or longer trips,” he said. Ron and Harry hugged as Hermione hugged Severus.

“You guys drive safe,” Hermione said, motioning to the car.

“We will,” Severus replied as he shook Ron’s hand in parting.

They said their goodbyes. Harry and Severus got into the car as Ron and Hermione Disapparated.

Harry dozed off and on in the car, a content smile on his face. The radio was playing quietly as they soared through the clouds to home.

“Wake up, Harry,” Severus whispered. Harry grinned and stretched, letting his eyes flutter open.

“I am awake,” he murmured. “Are we home?”

“Yes.”

They got out of the car and headed to the back door. Harry leaned heavily on Severus. As they reached the door, Harry stopped Severus from opening it.

“Hey,” he whispered, gazing up at the taller man. Severus looked down at him.

“Can I help you?” Severus asked, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Harry smiled, desire running through his eyes. He leaned up and pressed his lips against Severus’. Severus returned the kiss before pulling away gently. Harry lifted a hand up and caressed Severus’ cheek.

The door swung open and they stumbled inside, lips meeting each other again as the door shut.

A loud meow interrupted them. The cat sat, tail twitching, in the doorway. Her black and white coat had grown back fully, and her green eyes pierced them both.

“She’s hungry,” Harry groaned, letting his head fall on Severus’ shoulder. Severus ran his fingers through Harry’s hair while the other moved to his coat.

“Feed her, then,” Severus whispered into Harry’s ear, slowly unbuttoning his coat. Harry took in a sharp breath, one of his own hands going to the front of Severus coat and popping one of the buttons open.

The cat meowed again. Harry huffed and pulled away from Severus.

“Okay, Jinx, I hear you,” he grumbled, moving away from Severus and into the kitchen. Severus chuckled and undid his own coat, hanging it up on a hook before following into the kitchen. Harry had shrugged out of his own jacket, tossing it on the back of a kitchen chair and moving to the fridge. Jinx followed behind him, meowing.

“Really Jinx, tell me more about what happened,” Harry said, holding his end of the conversation with the chatty cat while pulling out a large bowl of premade cat food. Severus moved to the living room and sat down on the sofa. He unlaced his boots while listening to Harry talk to the cat. Harry scooped out a single serving of food into Jinx’s bowl before placing her dish down and putting the larger bowl of food back in the fridge. Jinx went quiet.

Severus’ boots were off and he waited quietly as Harry slowly moved towards the sofa and sat down. Since the furniture had come in, the two had both slowly fleshed out their relationship in their own ways. They went out to the Muggle town together so Harry could show Severus the wonders of the cinema. Severus had found a local playhouse and they saw a theater production of _A Christmas Carol._ Small touches and quick glances filled the time spent together around the house. Harry had found his way back to the floor and Severus’ side during quiet moments in the evenings. Severus didn’t know if Harry felt butterflies with the warmth that came when they looked at each other, but Severus did. The warmth was consuming; the butterflies were exciting.

“Dumb cat ruined the moment,” Harry joked quietly. Severus turned his head towards Harry. He hid nothing as he thought of the lean body hidden underneath the clothes in front of him. A flash of a memory crossed his mind and he smiled slightly.

“I want to kiss you,” Severus spoke, his voice barely audible as he turned to face Harry. Harry’s eyes went wide at Severus’ unexpected bluntness.

“I want to take your head in my hands, and curl my fingers in your hair and kiss you like I own you,” Severus breathed. Harry gasped as the words finally registered. His eyes grew dark.

“Then kiss me, Severus,” he whispered.

Later they wouldn’t remember who moved first. Harry was in Severus’ lap, clinging to him as they kissed passionately.

“Hold on,” Severus growled, pulling away from Harry. Harry tightened his grip around Severus’ neck, and wrapped his legs around the man’s waist.

Severus stood and carefully carried him to Severus’ bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Harry pulled away slightly as the door slammed.

“Was that necessary?” he asked. “There’s no one else in the house.”

“I’ve heard enough horror stories of passion being ruined by peeping possessive felines than I’d like to recount,” Severus growled as he deposited Harry on the bed.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, okay, that would be awkward,” he admitted.

For a moment the heat of earlier subsided and they stared at each other, Severus standing above Harry. Severus reached a hand out and caressed Harry’s face gently.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. Harry smiled and leaned into the touch, letting his eyes slide shut.

“When I was sixteen, I wanted nothing more than you to fuck me,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to die a virgin.”

“And I refused,” Severus said. Harry nodded.

“And then when I was eighteen, I wanted nothing more than you to have sex with me,” Harry said. “I wanted to celebrate, and I wanted to feel alive.”

“And again, I refused,” Severus said. “It’d be quite ironic if you refused this time.”

Harry chuckled and opened his eyes. “I don’t want you to fuck me, Severus,” he whispered. “Or have sex with me.”

Severus arched his eyebrow, waiting for the unsaid “but” that Harry had left hanging at the end of his sentence.

“I want you to make love to me, Severus Snape,” Harry said. His voice was barely audible. Severus leaned forward and kissed Harry gently. Harry moaned into the kiss, his hands going up to Severus’ chest.

“Thirty-five buttons, if you remember, Mr. Potter. You’ll have to unbutton them all,” Severus said quietly, pulling away from Harry’s lips. Harry laughed, popping a button open.

“I’ve got to get you back into the pajamas you were wearing in Sicily. Far easier to take off,” he said. Severus responded by going back to kissing Harry.

They slowly undressed each other, gasping when fingers found flesh instead of cloth, laughing when the other had issues with buttons, zips, and ties.

When they were both finally completely nude, Severus sat back and stared. Harry was lying in the middle of the bed, with his hips propped by a pillow and Severus kneeling in-between his legs. Harry’s arms were raised so that he could rest his hands on his head as he looked up at Severus. Harry’s body was toned and mostly hairless. Severus took in his fill of the pebbled nipples, down the dark trail of hair that was interrupted by the erection that lay against Harry’s belly. It was full, thick, and curved slightly to the left.

“Is everything about you long?” Harry asked with a sudden grin. “Long nose, long hair, long legs, long fingers, long…”

Severus smirked as Harry trailed off and swallowed, staring at the man’s groin.

“Long cock?” Severus asked playfully.

Harry laughed and looked up at him. “If I can’t say it, I shouldn’t be doing it, right?” he asked.

Severus rolled his eyes and wrapped a hand around his own shaft. He slowly stroked up, staring at Harry.

Harry moaned quietly, watching Severus’ hand move.

“Sev…” he murmured. Severus leaned down and captured Harry’s mouth with his own. Letting one hand trail down Harry’s side, the other reached out as he wordlessly Summoned a jar of lube from the bedside table.

“Just in case, right?” Harry asked as the jar slapped against Severus’ hand. “Never know when you might have someone in your bed?”

“Relax, Harry,” Severus replied as Harry swallowed hard. He heard the nervousness in Harry’s chattering.

“I _am_ relaxed,” Harry protested. He started to say something else when a lube-slicked hand covered his erection. His eyes rolled back and he groaned.

“Now you’re relaxed,” Severus said.

Severus slowly pumped Harry’s cock while kissing him soundly.

“When was the last time you did anything?” Severus asked, brushing a finger against Harry’s hole.

Harry blushed. “It had been since before the trial…until about two weeks ago when I remembered that spell with my wand,” Harry mumbled.

The thought of Harry upstairs, biting his pillow to stay silent as his wand moved in and out of him made Severus shiver violently.

“Just in case, right?” Severus teased. “Never know when you might need to be stretched in someone else’s bed?”

Harry’s laugh turned into a breathy moan as Severus slid a slick finger inside of him while swiping his thumb over the head of Harry’s cock.

“Severus, oh God,” Harry sighed.

Severus slowly prepared Harry, stretching him slowly as they kissed. Harry ran his hands over Severus’ body reverently, touching every part he could reach. For a moment, Harry carefully stroked Severus’ shaft while Severus focused on preparing him.

Harry moaned loudly as Severus brushed against his prostate with three fingers inside.

“Please,” Harry groaned. “Please, Severus, I want to feel you.”

Severus pulled his hand away. He gently positioned Harry’s legs and lined his cock up. Their eyes met and the warmth flooded over both of them. Severus slowly pushed into Harry, causing Harry to gasp and throw his head back. His eyes were closed as Severus sheathed himself completely.

“All right?” Severus asked. Harry groaned and opened his eyes, blinking a few times. A strange smile crossed his face and he lifted his hands from where they clutched the bed sheets at his sides. He grinned brightly and cupped Severus’ face.

“We’re glowing,” he murmured.

Severus frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Our magic,” Harry explained. Severus made a face and focused on Harry. Sure enough, both of their magic signatures surrounding them glowed brightly.

“Fireworks for your first time. You should feel honored,” Severus teased. Harry chuckled. The ripples of sensation made Severus groan loudly and rut forward slightly, making Harry moan in response.

“You don’t think we’ll do any kind of weird bonding thing because of it, do you?” Harry asked.

Severus snorted. “The most we may experience is the most amazing orgasm we will ever have in our entire lives,” he replied. Harry grinned and tightened his muscles around Severus who groaned again, dropping his head close to Harry’s.

“Knock it off unless you’re ready for more,” he growled. Harry squeezed again.

Severus pulled out and began a slow but steady pace.

It felt like an eternity and yet at the same time only moments later when Harry gripped the metal headboard and cried out.

“Faster! Oh God, Severus! More!”

Severus felt the sweat trickling down his back as he pounded into Harry, causing Harry's toes to curl against Severus' back. He was so close himself. He reached down and took Harry’s cock in his hand. He pumped in time with his thrusts, causing Harry to cry out. Finally, Harry shouted Severus' name, white pearls erupting from his cock and splattering against both of their chests. The contractions from Harry’s orgasm made Severus’ eyes roll back. He removed his hand from Harry’s cock and placed both hands on either side of Harry’s head. He focused on moving in and out until finally one of Harry’s hands touched his face. Opening his eyes, Severus stared down at Harry, who smiled languidly. Something about the look in Harry’s eyes set Severus off. He cried out and stilled, letting his orgasm tear through him.

Panting harshly, Severus collapsed next to Harry, who waved a hand over both of them to remove the sweat and come they were both covered in. Shivering at the sudden cold, Severus grabbed the soft sheet and pulled it over them both. He settled Harry close to him and kissed the top of his head. Harry lifted one of his hands. There were dark blue sparks dancing along the tips of his fingers. Severus lifted his own hand to touch palms with Harry. On his fingertips, orange sparks danced, intermingling with the blue from Harry’s hands.

Harry looked at Severus with a bemused smile. Severus chuckled and leaned forward to kiss him again.

 

 

~*~

  
Several weeks later, Harry groaned loudly as his body refused to give into sleep for a minute longer. He rolled over in bed and pulled Severus’ pillow towards him. There was a snort from near the bathroom.

“Time to rise and shine, Mr. Potter,” Severus said. “No escaping it.” Harry groaned again and buried his head under Severus’ pillow.

“Can’t make me,” Harry mumbled. “I’m sore and achy and tired.”

“And whose fault is that? I seem to recall someone asking for another go last night,” Severus teased. “You weren’t complaining then, you can’t complain now.”

“Yeah, but then I didn’t hurt, now I do,” Harry groused. He felt the bed dip and a hand found the base of his skull and started to massage.

“How bad is it?” Severus asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“It’s not really. I just don’t want to wake up,” Harry replied seriously. Severus hummed, finding the one spot on Harry’s neck that never failed to make him melt and moan. Sure enough as Harry let the moan flow forth, Severus pulled his hand away.

“I’ll make breakfast. But you have to get up, Harry. There’s post for you,” Severus said. Harry huffed and rolled onto his back. He stared up at Severus.

“Yeah, okay.”

Harry finally walked out of the bedroom a while later, wearing a pair of jeans and toweling his hair dry.

“So what do you want to do with the extra bedroom upstairs?” Harry asked. “I mean, I closed the loft in the shed off so you can use that as a second office, and then built a store room.”

“Maybe we’ll leave it as is. A guest bedroom, just in case. Andromeda might need you to baby-sit Teddy once in a while,” Severus said. “Feed your cat.”

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled the cat food out of the fridge. As Harry scooped the food out, he felt Severus ghost his fingers across his lower back. He smiled slightly.

“How are Kreacher and Wimbly doing?” Severus asked.

“Last I heard, well. I had them take a few days off for Christmas and then New Year’s. Told them they were allowed to sleep all day, eat whatever they wanted, and break anything they thought would be useless,” Harry replied. “I think I nearly gave Kreacher a heart attack with that.”

“Are any of the properties emptied and ready to be sold?”

“There’s an empty Black lot in Germany, and then that Potter home a bit north of London. I don’t really care about the lot in Germany much, but I’m not quite ready to give up on that other property. I just feel like I need to hang onto it for a little while longer,” Harry said.

Severus nodded, dishing out the scrambled eggs (with extra cheese on Harry’s) as Harry set down Jinx’s food. The cat meowed graciously.

“Then don’t give it up. There’s nothing wrong with having a few properties for just in case,” Severus said.

They sat at the table and Severus opened the _Daily Prophet_ , reading the articles quickly. Harry picked up a thick envelope with Molly Weasley’s handwriting on the front. With a smile, he opened it, frowning as another envelope fell out of it. He picked up the short letter from Molly first.

 _Harry dear,_

 _I may not have told you this, but I’ve started volunteering my time to help with the orphans left after the war. The Diggory family was able to take a few of the children on for the holidays, but were unable to take them to the Hogwarts Express to get back to school. We were at King’s Cross when this large man approached me. He asked if I knew you, and said he was your cousin, Dudley? He gave me this letter and told me it was important to get it to you as soon as possible._

 _I thought it was a trick at first, to be honest. I remember how horrible your aunt and uncle were to you growing up. Why would their son be reaching out to you? But there seems to be nothing wrong with the envelope. Even Bill couldn’t find anything._

 _It was quite strange. He was leaning against the pillars. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had planned to ask every single wizard who passed by him—or person if he couldn’t find the wizards. I’m just glad I found him._

 _It was lovely having you and Severus over for Christmas, dear. I missed you so much while you were gone. Know that you and Severus are both welcome at the Burrow whenever you may need._

 _With all my Love,_

 _Molly_

Harry frowned and placed the letter down. Severus caught the frown over the paper and arched an eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” he asked as Harry picked up the second envelope.

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, weighing the envelope in his hand.

“Who is it from?” Severus asked.

“My cousin,” Harry said.

“Read it after breakfast. He probably hasn’t got anything good to say,” Severus cautioned.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry frowned and reread the letter, sitting in his chair in the living room. Severus leaned over Harry’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Dudley’s…I think he’s had a baby,” Harry said.

“And that’s your business because?” Severus asked.

“She flies to the top of the fridge and bounces when dropped,” Harry said. Severus lifted away from Harry, fighting to keep his laughter under control.

“You’ll never quite understand the satisfaction I get from knowing that Tuney’s son has a magical child,” he said. Harry shook his head in amazement.

 

 

~*~

  
Harry stood in front of the house and frowned, glancing down the street. If he didn’t know better, he’d have to say he was on Privet Drive all over again. Carefully reaching forward, he knocked on the door.

For a brief moment, Harry hoped nobody would answer.

The door opened and Dudley Dursley stood in the frame, his normally pink face pale from exhaustion.

“Oh thank God,” he said, grabbing Harry by his shirtfront and dragging him in. “Maybe you can get her down.”

There was a child screaming in the kitchen. Harry laughed to see a small girl covered in mud, standing on top of the fridge, screaming, a teddy bear in her hand.

“What is she doing?” Harry asked.

“She went outside to play and got super dirty. I told her it was bath time, and she refused. She’s been up there for an hour. Every time I get close, all the cabinet doors open and slam shut and that stupid teddy bear flies at me,” Dudley said. “Her mother gets home in an hour. If she sees this…”

“Does she not know?” Harry asked, focusing in on the pale yellow magic that surrounded the girl.

“She has no clue,” Dudley said.

“All right,” Harry sighed. “Let’s get her down and cleaned up. Have you got a stepstool?”

They carefully shoved the stepstool in front of the fridge and then Harry climbed up. The teddy bear went flying towards him, but a simple flick of his wand and it dropped.

The toddler stopped screaming and stared at Harry curiously.

“Hello, I’m your Uncle Harry. What’s your favorite color?” he asked.

“Green,” the little girl responded.

“Well, I’ll make you a promise. If you get down from the fridge with me right now and take a bath, I’ll make all the bubbles in your bath green,” Harry said. The girl made a face.

“Nu-uh!”

Harry smirked. “And I’ll make your teddy fly to the bathroom,” he replied. The little girl’s eyes went wide and she stretched out her arms. Harry grabbed her and carefully handed her to Dudley.

“'Manda!” she said, dutifully sticking her hand out to Harry. Harry grinned and took her hand.

“Uncle Harry.”

One bath later, with brilliant green bubbles that fascinated Amanda no end, and it was naptime. Dudley tucked Amanda in, kissing her head gently.

“Unc’ Harry!” Amanda demanded. Dudley sighed and looked at Harry who kissed the girl on her head, before kissing her teddy bear too. The two men moved to the kitchen where Dudley collapsed into his chair.

“We’ve lost more babysitters because of things like that than I’d care to count,” Dudley groaned.

“So what’s been happening?” Harry asked.

“Everything was fine!” Dudley said. “She was a healthy, wonderful baby, who just happened to start talking, crawling and walking super early. We just figured that we were doing something right and had been extremely blessed. Her mother, Sasha…she’s beautiful, really. Sasha keeps writing all of the strange little things off. I did too the first time she bounced but…I grew up with you. When I asked myself how a two-year-old could get up on the fridge, I realized that the only way had to be the same way an eight-year-old got up on the roof when his cousin was being a dick.”

Dudley looked up at Harry. Harry recognized the apology and smiled slightly.

“She’s cute,” Harry said. Dudley snorted.

“Don’t get me started. Do you know how hard it is to say no to her? But Sasha demands balance and rules, says it’ll make her a better person when she’s older. I don’t know how I’m going to tell Sasha that our daughter is a witch,” Dudley said.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Harry said. “I mean, there are a lot of great things going for her, starting with being a celebrity’s niece.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing wrong once she gets to…What’s it called?”

“Hogwarts?”

“Yeah, Hogwarts. But until then? What am I supposed to do when she gets something taken away from her in class, only for it to fly into her hands a few minutes later? What if she ends up on the roof? Or setting snakes free in the zoo? I don’t want my daughter speaking to snakes, no offense,” Dudley said, his voice growing more frantic. Harry made calming noises.

“Most wizards don’t want their daughters speaking to snakes. It’s a super rare ability that I promise she won’t have,” Harry said. “Look, Dudley, I don’t know what you want me to do for you here.”

“Isn’t there some kind of Wizarding day care or primary school for before Hogwarts?” Dudley asked.

Harry bit his lip and shook his head. “Wizards from Wizarding families are usually homeschooled before Hogwarts.”

“Well, that’s dumb. How are you supposed to know that they’re all on the same reading level? That they can even do addition?” Dudley asked.

Harry shrugged. “I didn’t make the system, Dudley.”

Dudley sighed heavily and looked out the window.

“I just don’t…I can’t give up my job for another day of trying to coax a toddler off a fridge because my kitchen utensils try to attack me when I get close to her,” he said heavily. “I need a babysitter during the day who can handle her and her tantrums. And then I need a school where I know she won’t get in trouble for doing things she can’t control.”

Harry straightened, his mind turning.

“You know what, Dudley—I’ll get you a babysitter. I’ll get you more than a babysitter. If I can’t figure out what to do for her school, this woman will be able to homeschool her for you,” Harry said, thinking of Molly Weasley.

“Well, what about her schooling?” Dudley asked. “Sasha doesn’t believe in homeschooling. She thinks it ruins the socialization process.”

Harry smiled.

“We’ve got a few years. I’ll figure something out.”

 

 

~*~

  
“Sorry I’m late!” Hermione said, slipping into the chair across from Severus.

He arched an eyebrow. “I was beginning to worry, Mrs. Weasley,” he said.

Hermione shook her head at the use of her last name. “Yes, well, Professor Snape, I am trying to set up my courses at Oxford. You’ll forgive me if I allow the Dean a few extra minutes to be long-winded in his greeting and explanation of the programme,” she said.

As Harry had settled into a pattern of going around and checking on his properties and going through the overstock of various things he now owned, Hermione and Severus had renewed the habit of meeting with each other as they had in Sicily. Once a week they’d determine a new place to meet and catch up. Today they were at a small Muggle café Hermione insisted on.

Severus chuckled. “So you have been accepted?” he asked.

Hermione’s face broke into a bright smile. “I have! Of course I was top of my class at Hogwarts when I was there, and I did insist on sitting for my NEWTs, so I don’t think anybody is actually as pleasantly surprised as they all keep pretending to be,” she said.

Severus inclined his head slightly. “That doesn’t mean they’re any less proud of you, however,” he said.

Hermione’s eyes sparkled and she shrugged her shoulders. “This is true,” she said. They went quiet for a few moments, perusing the menu before Hermione looked up.

“So Harry is going to see Dudley today?” she asked curiously. Severus nodded. Hermione shook her head.

“I’m really shocked. I’ll be interested to see what happens next. Dudley was vicious to Harry when they were growing up,” she said.

Severus hummed. “Yes, well…I’m hoping that maybe it’ll provide some kind of puzzle to be solved. Going through his inheritance is keeping Harry busy—but he’s by no means happy,” Severus said.

“He’s happy with you,” Hermione interjected.

Severus looked up at her quickly. He had to fight the corners of his lips to keep them down. He knew Harry was happy with him, but to be told by an outsider that it was true made it all the more real.

“Yes,” Severus said, clearing his throat. “But I have things I want to do, and achieve, and accomplish. Unfortunately some of those things are not things that Harry can help with.”

Hermione sat back in her chair and arched her eyebrow in a mimicking fashion. “And what are these things that you plan on doing, Professor?” she asked.

“Well,” Severus sighed heavily. “Step one is building up more of my own funds. The Ministry has given me a small sum. It is not enough to live off forever, but I refuse to think for a moment that Harry’s money will be my main support. I like to think that he’ll be happy with me for a very long time, but that’s his money that he needs to decide what to do with.”

“So what are you going to do to build funds? Potions via post?” Hermione asked.

Severus pursed his lips. “Yes. But not just that. I’m going to update the Potions textbooks. I want to create a new series. In your sixth year, Harry made a comment that when I took the time to write potions down with instructions—they were easier to understand than the textbook, or my barking instructions.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “There hasn’t been an update to Hogwarts' Potions books in over…” She trailed off trying to think of the last time the Potions texts had changed.

“A century, when my Master’s Master died. Granted, it may take several years to take on that task. I’ll probably start with lower levels and work my way up. So the potions via post will help supplement the income while I’m working on it. My Master always spoke of doing the same, but he was too obsessed with his own project: which I will inherit once I’m done with the textbooks,” Severus said.

Hermione leaned forward, a spark of excitement in her eyes. “What was his project?” she asked.

“A cure,” Severus replied simply. Hermione seemed to be on the edge of her seat in anticipation.

“For what?” she asked.

Severus smirked. “Lycanthropy, of course.”

 

 

~*~

  
 **EPILOGUE**  
 _Three Years Later_

Harry sighed contentedly as the kisses rained on his shoulders.

“I don’t want to wake up,” he groaned, clutching his pillow tight to his bare chest. Severus chuckled and bit Harry’s neck lightly. Harry moaned.

“But you have to wake up,” Severus said.

“But if I wake up, you’ll stop touching me and leave me an aroused mess for the rest of the day,” Harry said with a huff.

“Which will make it all the more sweeter tonight,” Severus said, running his hand down Harry’s side, tickling him and arousing him at the same time.

“You’re a horrible tease,” Harry said, pressing his hips and proud erection down into the mattress for friction. Severus pulled away.

“Come on, all you have to do is meet with Draco and then you can come home,” Severus said, his weight leaving the bed. There was a meow at the door. “You need to feed your cat.”

Harry sighed, rolling over in bed so he was lying on his back. Jinx was sitting in the doorway of the bedroom, her tail twitching.

“Bloody Malfoy messing up my plans,” Harry grumbled.

“Not everybody can just take off in the middle of the month for no other reason than the spring equinox,” Severus said, buttoning his shirt. Harry watched Severus dress with a sigh.

“Will you make breakfast?” Harry asked. Severus looked over at Harry who grinned.

“You’re best at making breakfast,” Harry continued.

Severus rolled his eyes. “You’re just too lazy. Yes, I’ll make breakfast.”

He moved over to the bed and pressed a short kiss to Harry’s lips before pulling away.

“Get dressed, Potter,” he instructed as he passed by Jinx. The cat meowed and followed Severus.

A while later Harry found himself walking up the path to the schoolhouse. He was adjusting his robes when he heard a shriek from the playground.

“Uncle Harry!”

His arms were full of a very squiggly five-year-old. Harry laughed.

“Hello, Amanda,” he said. “What are you doing outside? It’s not your scheduled playtime.”

“I knew you were coming,” Amanda said. Her firm nods made her blonde pigtails bounce. Harry smiled lightly. By all accounts, Professor Trelawney would have her hands full with a real Seer by the time Amanda entered Hogwarts.

“That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to skip class to wait for me,” Harry said sternly. “Class is important.”

Amanda sighed loudly as she rested her head on Harry’s shoulder.

“How are your mother and father?” Harry asked.

“Good,” Amanda replied. “Mum sends love.”

Harry smiled as he opened the front door. “Well, send it back to her, okay?”

“There you are!” Hannah Abbot cried when she saw Amanda. “Your teacher is worried sick!”

Harry put Amanda on the floor and stepped back. Hannah Abbot had turned into the best choice Harry could’ve ever made for a headmistress of the primary school.

“But my Uncle Harry—“

“No ma’am, Miss Dursley. Your Uncle Harry is no excuse to leave your classroom. Now scoot!”

Amanda huffed. She hugged Harry’s leg tightly before scampering down the hallway. Harry grinned at Hannah.

“Sorry, she’s a bit of a handful,” he said.

Hannah grinned and shook her head. “She’s fine normally, it’s only when you show up that we have issues,” she replied.

“Well that fills me with confidence. Is Draco Malfoy here yet?” he asked. Hannah shook her head.

“You’ve got another fifteen minutes until he arrives here early with that look of disdain on his face,” she reassured.

“Well, give me a crash course so I avoid any new messes, or trouble children,” Harry said.

When Draco arrived, Harry and Hannah stood at the front door waiting for him.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Harry greeted, holding out his hand. Draco hesitated before shaking it.

“Mr. Potter,” Draco greeted in return. “And Miss Abbot, so good to see you too.”

Hannah smiled. “Welcome to Equinox Primary School,” she said.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “All right, Potter, enough with the niceties. Show me this mad-man experiment you’ve got going on,” Malfoy said, pushing past them. Harry made a face at Hannah before starting the tour.

A little while later, Draco was nodding and listening carefully to Harry’s explanations.

“So when do you tell the Muggle-born parents?” he asked.

“When they’re seven; it gives us two years of trust with the children and their parents. We’ve picked up their child every morning in a bright green bus, and returned them every afternoon in the same bright green bus with the same driver and the same children,” Harry said. “We even have that bus pick them up and bring them to the school for a Parents’ Night.”

“And they never realize how far they’ve driven?” Draco asked. Harry shook his head.

“They usually don’t.”

“And seven is when you split them up, correct?” Draco asked. Harry nodded his head slightly.

“They have two classes when they turn seven. A culture class that teaches them about whichever culture they didn’t grow up in, and then their main class where they are mixed together to learn about math, science, reading, music, art, and basic history,” Harry said.

“Is the history Muggle or magical?” Draco asked.

“A blend of both,” Harry said.

“And what about the half-bloods?” Draco asked.

“Well, there are some who were raised in a more Muggle fashion, and some who were raised in a more magical fashion. We’re considering creating a third class that blends, but for now we split them up depending on how they were raised,” Harry explained.

“Uncle Harry!” a loud whisper interrupted them. Harry and Draco turned to see Amanda, lined up for her art class. She waved excitedly at her uncle. Harry grinned and waved back before motioning for her to pay attention to her class. He turned to Draco.

“My niece,” he explained. Draco had an amused look on his face.

“Muggle-born, I assume?” he asked. Harry nodded.

Draco sighed and scratched his arm gently, looking around the hallways.

“You know, Potter, I thought that this was going to be a joke to come see,” he said.

Harry felt the scowl coming on. “Well, we aren’t a joke,” he said firmly.

“No,” Draco agreed, shaking his head. “You aren’t. I like it, Potter. I do.”

Draco looked at Harry before offering his hand.

“You have the Malfoy family behind you. Whenever you need the money or anything else. My children will be coming to this institute,” he said. Harry took Draco’s hand and smiled brightly.

“It’s good to see the Malfoy name being improved. Thank you, Draco, you won’t regret this,” Harry said.

“Make sure I don’t,” Draco replied before stalking out the front door. Harry let out a whoop of laughter and quickly Floo’d home.

 

 

~*~

  
“Wimbly, if you could get the jar of Wartcap powder, please,” Severus murmured. Wimbly quietly jumped off the bench and scampered to the back of the dark shed. Severus paid no attention to the sound of the supply closet door opening as he leaned over and made a mark in a notebook, sparing a quick glance to the cauldron filled with a thick pink substance releasing steam. His old copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ lay open above the notebook. Severus glanced at a note that his teenage self had made, and snorted.

“That’s still a rather onerous way to go about using the Wartcap powder,” he muttered, as if speaking to his younger self. Wimbly returned and carefully placed a jar on the table.

Since Kreacher had passed two years before, Wimbly had proved to be an invaluable resource in the lab. There had been many times when Harry had come in to the lab and it was only by the grace of the house-elf that the two men didn’t kill each other, between Harry bumbling around and Severus’ short temper while brewing.

A small blue light went off above the door, and both Wimbly and Severus glanced up.

“Master Harry is home,” Wimbly said quietly. Severus nodded and looked over at the potion. He wouldn’t be able to cast a stasis charm after the Wartcap powder was added. The two knocks at the door signaled an end to Severus’ brewing time for the day, and he quickly flicked his wand to cast the charm over the cauldron as Harry slipped in.

The door shut and Severus and Wimbly both looked up at Harry. The man seemed to be bursting at the seams, waiting for permission to whoop for joy.

“Well?” Severus asked.

“Draco Malfoy is going to support Equinox Primary! This is what we needed to get the Hogwarts Governors on board with our curriculum!” Harry said excitedly. Wimbly started clapping gleefully as Severus smirked.

“We’ll have to celebrate.”

 

 

~*~

  
They had had a picnic in the yard, enjoying the last rays of the sun. Dinner cleared away, Harry leaned against Severus and sighed happily. Severus smoothed Harry's hair with his fingers.

“I think I’ll finally be able to get that storefront I’ve wanted to get up in town,” Severus said quietly.

“Are you going to be able to do what you wanted with the Muggle side and the Wizarding side?” Harry asked. Severus nodded.

Harry smiled. “That’s good.”

They fell silent just watching as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. As the last ray of light gave away to the quiet darkness, Severus shifted slightly so he could look at Harry.

“Harry,” he whispered. Harry looked up at Severus. They stared at each other for a while.

“I lov—” Severus began.

Harry lifted his fingers and placed them against Severus’ lips, stopping him from saying the words. They both smirked at the familiar gesture. Harry leaned forward and replaced his fingers with his lips. He moaned as Severus pushed him back onto the ground as they kissed.

“Is this what it feels like to be alive after being gone for so long?” Harry asked as Severus pulled away. His heart was thrumming and Harry felt like he could count every beat, every breath, every hair that stood on end as Severus gently ran a finger down his face and neck.

“Yes,” Severus breathed, pressing his lips against Harry’s again.

Two hands met and fingers interlaced.

 

 

 

-The End-


End file.
